


Losing You, Finding You

by howlsmovingiceskates



Series: Losing You, Finding You [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Ambiguous Character Death, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Blow Jobs, Coma, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Crack, Depression, Dreams and Nightmares, Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Implied Sexual Content, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Canon, Reunion Sex, Secret Relationship, Shower Sex, Tags May Change, Three months, Time Travel, Victor Nikiforov is Extra, Yakov Feltsman Is So Done, after like, all animals are invincible, and play a lot of pranks, but also a shit ton of fluff, celestino too, do not copy to another site, everyone is so extra, no beta we die like men, semi graphic depictions of injury, that man needs a break, there's an accident, this fic finally has a rating lol, this is entirely self indulgent, viktor and yuuri can't keep their hands off each other, viktor and yuuri confuse everyone, with a little canon divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 75,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26005771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howlsmovingiceskates/pseuds/howlsmovingiceskates
Summary: When Viktor and Yuuri get involved in a hit and run, the two are thrown back into the past. When only Viktor and Yuuri can remember their history, the two lovebirds must try to keep things on the down low for the public. Of course, when someone is as extra as Viktor and as confident as Yuuri, things aren't so easy to hide.Or, in which Viktor and Yuuri get thrown into the past and chaos ensues.Username changed from thetwentyonepafonies to howlsmovingiceskates
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: Losing You, Finding You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973740
Comments: 454
Kudos: 880
Collections: Storycatcher's Ice stash, Victuuri Time Travel





	1. Losing You

It started out as a normal day. With Viktor getting up early to take Makkachin out, and Yuuri getting up to have breakfast ready just as Viktor comes back. The two spend the next half hour goofing around and enjoying each other’s company before making their way to the ice rink to coach Yurio. They’re both retired and now operate as joint coaches. Yurio is their protégé and unofficial son. He’s dominated the skating world now that they’re gone. He certainly keeps them in shape, never failing to push his limits.

After an exhausting day they make their way back to their home to enjoy a romantic night in. As they cross the street, apartment building in sight and hands swinging between them, Viktor hears car horns blaring. He looks to his left and sees a pickup truck speeding through the red light, coming straight for them. He knows it’s too late to move out of the way, so he draws Yuuri to his chest in an attempt to protect him from the worst of it. The truck hits them both and keeps driving. 

He sees the impact more than he feels it. He hears screams, but he’s not sure where they’re coming from. All he sees is Yuuri’s broken body a few feet away, limbs bent in positions humanly impossible. He can see tears in his beloved’s eyes as they slowly close. His heart shatters like glass that has been dropped on a linoleum floor, no longer beating in his chest. He tries to move his arms so he can crawl to his husband, desperate to hold onto him, but finds himself unable to. He’s paralyzed to the spot, every breath he takes shooting immeasurable pain. 

On the brink of death, the only thing Viktor can think about is Yuuri. He swears he can feel the man lying across from him touch his cheek and whisper his name. It’s an odd thing, to have your happiness stripped away so suddenly. Viktor’s not sure if he’ll ever wake up, but he prays he’ll get to see Yuuri again wherever he goes.

Slowly his body starts to register the pain in his nerves. Sharp aches that are far beyond the one to ten scale of pain fill his body. As the physical pain joins the crush of his shattered heart, his vision goes black and he loses consciousness. The last thing he hears is someone calling his name.

* * *

When Viktor wakes up, he finds the other side of the bed empty and cold. This in and of itself isn’t too odd. Some days Yuuri got too restless and would take Makkachin out, leaving Viktor to be the one to make them breakfast. Except, as he sits up, he’s greeted with the sight of Makkachin at the foot of the bed. Frowning, Viktor gets up and walks out of their bedroom. “Yuuri~” he calls in a singsong voice.

No response comes, leaving Viktor to wonder where his dearest husband went. He sweeps the apartment, slowly beginning to notice things out of place as he wakes up more and more. The blanket Yuuri’s mom gave them no longer sits on the back of the couch, and the kitchen looks positively bereft of the various foods, mugs, and dishes that had been left there the night before. The rice cooker that usually sits on the counter nowhere to be seen.

In fact, now that he’s properly looking around, nothing in their apartment displays their life together. The pictures on the walls are gone, leaving in their place white paint that is too constricting as it surrounds the apartment. Yuuri’s collection of Japanese movies no longer sits under the TV stand, nothing but dust left to fill the emptiness. Yuuri’s books don’t sit on the bookshelf. In fact, it looks as though they had never been there. Only Viktor’s things sit on the shelves, unused and unwanted.

Viktor starts to panic, wondering what kind of cruel trick this is. He sprints back to their bedroom, finally seeing it empty of everything Yuuri. Yuuri’s sweater that he knew was left on the floor by their bed is gone, and the closet consists only of Viktor’s clothes. He reaches for his phone on his nightstand, and stops. Tears that he has been holding back since he realized things were off now falling freely when his hand comes into view. His wedding ring is no longer on his finger.

Viktor falls to his knees in anguish. Did Yuuri leave him? No. No there’s no way he’d just up and leave. Even if he did, Yuuri would’ve left the ring...right? He tries to come up with a logical explanation, anything to make sense of Yuuri’s absence, but the grief of suddenly finding himself alone left him with clouded thoughts and a broken heart. 

He...he can’t breathe. He can’t move. His love...his life...gone. Taken away from him in the blink of an eye. How can he be expected to go on? He had always been selfish with Yuuri’s love. He stole kisses, touched him whenever possible, used it to fuel his own happiness. Is this punishment for being unwilling to share the love of his husband? He always tried to give as he received. Was it not enough? Did he not love Yuuri enough? Did the universe think him unworthy of a man like Yuuri? Was he really destined to be alone forever? Or was he so alone he dreamed up the most perfect man?

Viktor’s always been lonely. His only companion growing up had been the ice. As he began to reach the end of his career, Viktor’s loneliness only grew. The passion he had in his teens quickly diminished in his early twenties when he learned people only wanted his celebrity persona. No one cared about who Viktor was underneath. They cared for his money instead, going as far as to stomp the light out of him to get to it. No one saw his pain. He learned that early on too. As long as he smiled for the camera, no one cared. That all changed when he met Yuuri. 

Yuuri gave his life a whole new meaning. He made life exciting. He showed he cared in every way humanly possible and then some. He brightened the dull colors in Viktor’s world and gave him unconditional love. Maybe Yuuri really was too good to exist. A figment of his imagination created to give him something he lacked, only to be rudely taken from him in more than one way.  
He remembers now, the accident that left him and Yuuri for dead. He knows Yuuri wasn’t a figment of his imagination. His husband is too perfect to be anything he could come up with, but as he remembers the details and the pain, he thinks he’d prefer Yuuri to be a dream if it meant they were never hit. If it meant Yuuri wouldn’t know injury. If it meant he could be alive, even if it was only in Viktor’s head and heart. 

Choked sobs sound throughout the apartment, waking Makkachin and prompting the poodle to go to the source. She nudges Viktor’s arm, trying to draw his attention to her. Viktor lifts his head to meet his dog’s concern, having no energy to make her stop licking his cheeks. He’s grateful for his dog. She helps him stop crying, and stays with him until his sniffling stops and he is capable of lifting his arm to reach for his phone.

He sees the multitude of notifications from Yakov and Yurio first, only briefly noting the date as October 24th. Wait. October 24th? It had been August 13th when he and Yuuri were...he doesn’t finish the thought. Did he miss two months? What happened?

He opens Google, typing in the date to make sure his phone wasn’t lying to him. He found the results to be even more confusing though. His phone displays October 24, 2015 as the date. Two months before he and Yuuri met? This didn’t make sense. Did he travel back in time? Is this the universe telling him to fix what happened?

A phone call from Yurio interrupts his thoughts. He stares at the screen, slowly moving his thumb to swipe and answer. “VIKTOR” he hears before he even puts his phone to his ear, “WHERE ARE YOU? YOU’RE LATE. YOU PROMISED YAVOK YOU’D BE HERE BY 8:30! IT’S ALMOST TEN NOW!”

Viktor winces and tries to find his voice, “I-” he stops and coughs, his voice scratchy and his head pounding, “I’m sorry...I forgot.” he whispers. He doesn’t have the strength to talk any louder.

“Shit,” Yurio calms down, “Are you alright?”

Tears swell in his eyes again at the question. He’s thankful the boy isn’t there to see the salty substance slide down his cheeks. “I’m fine. I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before the kid can say anything else.

Mustering up all the strength he has, Viktor stands up on wobbly knees. His younger body moves weirdly, in a way that he’s no longer used to. It’s like he’s trying to move while drunk, but he knows he’s sober. He’ll have to get used to this body again. In this body he has no ache in his knees, and his movements are slightly swifter. Moving comes easier with the lack of joint pain, he bitterly notes. He changes clothes, briefly noticing he put his sweater on inside out, but not caring in the slightest. He tiredly grabs his keys and walks out.

He’s almost terrified to walk outside, fearful of being hit again before he even has a chance to find out if Yuuri exists. The only thing that keeps him from running back inside is the knowledge that today is not that day. He knows he’ll live another day, because he’s done it before. He’s in 2015 now. He’ll at least make it to 2024.

He doesn’t register the cold biting at his skin, hardly paying attention to where he’s going except for when he has to cross the street. He triple checks each way, dashing to the other side before a driver can begin to think about running a light and hitting him. 

He makes it to the rink physically okay, but his mental strength continues to deteriorate. At this rate, he’s sure to burn out before he even hits the ice. What is he supposed to be skating again? He remembers his free skate. How could he not? He and Yuuri skated it together whenever they could. It’s his short program he had trouble remembering. It had always been unremarkable, boring except to his blind and obsessive fans.

He makes a beeline for the locker room, attempting to avoid everyone he can for as long as possible. He gets there alright, but finds himself having to bite his lip and clench his fists to keep from breaking down again. His locker should be next to Yuuri’s, but instead it sits alone, surrounded by emptiness akin to the kind that has filled his heart. 

He swallows hard, tentatively reaching for his skates and tying them up. This is harder than he thought it’d be. He should go. He should stop before it gets out of hand, but he knew Yakov would never accept his excuses for a day or two off. It’s competition season, and he needed the practice. He hasn’t skated competitively in forever. 

Taking a deep breath, and putting on his camera ready poker face, Viktor walked out of the locker room to the ice, his only companion. If this is his new reality, he’ll have to figure out what his SP is, but for today, he’ll focus on his FS regardless of what Yakov has to say about the matter.

“There you are,” Yurio skates to the boards, leaning against them to watch Viktor, “You look like shit.”

Viktor grunts, barely giving the teen any attention. He knows it’s wrong, to act so rudely to someone he’s been so close with, but as far as the kid was concerned, Yurio doesn’t even know of his nickname. The reminder is like a punch to the gut. All the time that has passed, all the relationships he’s fortified, all gone. It wasn’t just Yuuri he lost. He lost everyone.

“Vitya, you’re late!” Yakov yelled from the other side of the rink, “Hurry and warm up then start working on your step sequences!”

He doesn’t say anything, only nods and tries to act like he isn’t suffocating. He takes off his skate guards and steps onto the ice. 

Here, he felt like he had Yuuri beside him. They may speak each other’s language, but skating was a language neither ever strained to understand. It came as naturally as breathing. They knew how to read one another, and knew how to act accordingly. They don’t call everything on the ice _love_ for nothing. 

He skates around the rink, barely managing to keep from bumping into some of his rinkmates. It’s hard to stay upright when he’s not used to this body and when his mind is another world away. Everyone notices his disheveled appearance and blatant pain, but no one says anything. A testament to his current lack of friends, of family. It hurts him. Even Yakov keeps silent, watching intently for Viktor’s mistakes, only yelling about how he needs to fix his movements and screaming about how he’s not acting like himself. 

Viktor attempts to skate to Stammi Vicino, but flubs his first jump. He lands hard on the ice, and lets the cold seep into his skin. He stays there, in the middle of the rink, until Yuri comes and kneels next to him, hands on his shoulders as he lifts him into a sitting position.

“Fuck Viktor, what the hell is wrong with you?” He asks, staring at the silver haired man with wide eyes.

Viktor doesn’t say anything. He’s always been bad at communicating how he feels with words, and this time is no different. He merely stares ahead blankly, wondering if he died the day of the accident and this is Hell. 

“Are you,” the blond stops mid sentence, seemingly appalled, “are you crying?”

Viktor lifts his hand up to his cheek and finds the tip of his fingers meeting wet streaks. He stares at his hand, at where his ring should be. Before his mind tells him Yuri will freak out and push him away, Viktor pulls Yuri to him and hugs him tightly. The teenager screams and waves his arms around, not knowing how to handle the sudden physical closeness. 

Viktor lets go of him, knowing that he’s already overstepped boundaries. He wonders if he’ll ever have a familial relationship with his rinkmates again. If Yakov will soften when Viktor accidentally calls him dad again, if Yuri will be okay with him and Yuuri calling him son. If Georgi will ever come to him for relationship advice, if Mila will invite him to go shopping with her. He doubts it. He’s come back to a lonely life, and he doesn’t have the strength to act like he’s okay enough to socialize.

“Viktor you can’t be screwing around!” Yakov shouts, “You have competition this year! If you don’t practice next thing you know that Katsuki guy will be taking your spot in the GPF!”

Viktor’s head shot up at the sound of his husband’s last name, “Katsuki?” He croaks out, swiping at the snot on his nose, “As in Yuuri Katsuki?”

“Yes. He’s been rising up in the ranks.” Yakov tells him, his tone suggesting he’s said this before. Maybe he has and Viktor just doesn’t remember. Probably doesn’t remember. It’s been so long...

A thought suddenly crosses his mind. What if Yuuri came back to this time too? Or what if this really is his chance to make things better? To save both of their lives. Inexplicable hope rises in his chest, fueling the energy in his cells. He needs to go home. He needs to contact Yuuri, because if they’re in this together...well, then everything will be bearable.

* * *

As he practically runs home (taking caution of course. He’ll never forget what it’s like to be hit by a speeding car), he starts to think about the possibilities that he’s alone. After all, Yuuri should’ve contacted him by now right? But Viktor pushed those thoughts back with everything he had. He knows his husband. He laughs at the thought, a smile finally forming on his face. He knows his husband! Of course! Why didn’t he realize this earlier? He knows that if Yuuri came back too, he’d be in a worse state than Viktor. He knows his husband’s anxiety has never gone away, and that it’s probably worse for him in his younger self’s body, where his hormones are a little less controlled and his situation a breeding ground for anxiety. He knows this, and while he aches to be there for him, he’s unfathomably hopeful.

Bursting through the door to their apartment (because even if Yuuri isn’t here, it will always be theirs), Viktor restlessly sits on the couch. He always had Yuuri’s phone number memorized, in case he lost his phone and needed to call him or something. Today, he’s thankful for his past (future? This is confusing) self’s precautions. He typed in the number, and sent a single text to his husband. 

“Is Barcelona important to you...?” 

In minutes his phone is ringing from the same number, and Viktor feels his heart skip several beats. He fumbles with his phone as he answers it, bringing it up to his ear with shaking hands.

“ _Vitya_.” he hears, the voice on the other end of the line cracking on his name.

Viktor cries, relief flooding through his body and repairing the fractures in his soul. Everything is going to be okay.

“ _Yuuri_.”


	2. Finding You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in the past, Anxious!Yuuri edition!

A snap runs through his body, knocking the breath out of him, as if his soul has just been pulled back to earth after ascending a great deal into the sky. A sharp pain floods his body as he makes contact with something cold and hard. _Ice_ , he thinks, recognizing the frigid ground. He’s fallen enough times to know how the freezing ground affects his senses. His legs don’t want to move, and his body doesn’t have the energy to sit up. It’s like he got hit by a truck.

Vague memories he can’t quite grasp a hold of suggest he might have been. Except, he’s on the ice, so it’s impossible to have been hit by a truck. A zamboni maybe? He tries to reach for those fleeting thoughts, but it hurts his head, so he gives up. Probably just a dream anyways. He doesn’t move, but rather let’s his body heat melt the substance beneath him, glad for something cold on his figure. 

“Yuuri! Yuuri!” A voice shouts, bringing Yuuri back to the world around him.

“Hmm? Viktor?” He mumbles, using every ounce of energy he can grasp to sit up slowly. His head is killing him. Cold seeps into his skin, making some areas go numb. He vaguely registers a slight dampness in his clothes.

“Viktor? Who’s Viktor?” The same voice questions, “Yuuri are you okay? You completely missed your jump and fell really hard.”

Yuuri opens his eyes, seeing his best friend Phichit kneeling in front of him. “Phichit!” he exclaims, “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

“What?” Phichit furrows his brows, concern written across his face, “Yuuri let’s get you off the ice.” Phichit pulls him up, the arms around him guiding him to the edge of the rink.

Yuuri looks around, a deep sense of dread filling in his abdomen. Something isn’t right here...this looks like the rink in Detroit? But last he checked he was still in St. Petersburg? “Phichit why are we here?” He asks, starting to feel nauseous.

“To train? You’ve got Sochi to get to? For the GPF? Did you hit your head?” Phichit isn’t bothering to hide his worry. He helps Yuuri get his skate guards on and brings him to the bleachers to sit down. “I’m going to grab Ciao-Ciao.”

Yuuri frowns, trying to make sense of his situation. Coach Celestino retired a couple years ago. And as far as Yuuri knew, they didn’t have a reunion planned. Much less a GPF to win...a GPF in Sochi too...this year's GPF is supposed to be in Seoul. Something isn’t right. He needs to call Viktor and figure out what the hell is going on. Oh gosh, is he suffering from an early onset of dementia? Maybe he should go to a psychologist or a neurologist or someone to get checked out. He just had a physical though. Did they miss something?

The last thing he remembers is walking home with Viktor and talking about going on a date for the weekend. Yuuri briefly mentioned going to see a movie he’s been wanting to see, and Viktor asked about going to their favorite restaurant. Then next thing he knows he’s back on the ice flubbing a jump and hitting the ground hard. Clearly there’s something he’s missing, and the thought scares him. Unless this is a prank? But who’s twisted enough to do that?

Phichit comes back with Celestino, both of them wearing concerned expressions. “Yuuri,” Celestino kneeled in front of him, “are you feeling alright? I know you’ve got Skate Canada coming up, but do you need to take the rest of the day off?”

“What? Why am I competing in Skate Canada?” 

“Yuuri, I’m going to check and make sure you don’t have a concussion, alright?” Celestino says at the same time Phichit exclaims “For the 2015 GPF preliminaries, of course!”

2015? That wasn’t right. It was 2024 last he checked. Right? Maybe this is all a dream, and that’s why he can’t wrap his head around anything right now. But nothing about this made sense, because even for a dream this is extreme. Everything feels too real.

Yuuri flinches when Celestino shines a light in his eyes, his mind running a thousand miles an hour. What’s happening? Why is everyone looking at him like he’s crazy? Why does everyone look younger? Why is he in Detroit? No...it couldn’t...his life with Viktor...that was all real, right? There’s no way he could generate such a life full of love and Viktor and happiness. _Wrong_ the voice in the back of his mind whispers, _of course it was all made up_.

His left hand flies to his right, subconsciously wanting to fiddle with his ring. He never touches the golden band though, and with rising alarm, Yuuri looks down to see it missing. He never goes out without his ring. The only time it comes off is when he’s in the shower or doing dishes, and then he immediately puts it back on once he’s finished. In the seven years that he and Viktor have been married, not once has he lost his ring. His mind races as he tries to come up with a reasonable explanation for all that’s happening. 

His stomach churns, bubbling with displeasure and cramps. Air doesn’t reach his lungs; he can’t reach a steady mindset. His heart beats erratically in his chest, aching for something he doesn’t have. No. This can’t be happening. All those years, gone in the blink of an eye. Why? Why did he have to wake up? Please, someone, bring him back to his dream world. Please, let his years come back to him. _Let this be the dream_. 

What did he _do_? What did he do to lose his life? How can he fix this? He needs to know what he did so he can fix this. Should he skate to Stammi Vicino and upload it on YouTube? No, that would look bad for Viktor. He’s hardly shown off that program yet. He doesn’t need a nobody skating it and taking attention away from him. Oh no. What if Viktor’s not here with him? Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Alone. He’s alone. So alone. With all these memories in his head that he can’t separate into this new reality. What’s going on? Help. Help. Help. Please. How does he go back? Can he go back? He wants to go back. 

Viktor, he laments, will not know him at this time. They haven’t even met yet. To Viktor, Yuuri is, at best, poor competition. He’ll relive “Commemorative photo? Sure!”, if he even gets that. He doubts he’ll actually make it to the GPF this time around. He will never get to meet Viktor, never get to live the life of his dreams.

How did this happen? Why is he here? What is the point? Where can he go? Can he get Viktor to fall for him again? What if he _never_ makes it to the GPF while he’s skating? He'll never make it. He'll never make it. He'll never make it. He’s done for. How can he wrap his anxiety up and bottle it long enough to get through the GPF? He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. He wants Viktor. He wants to hear his voice. He wants. He wants. He wants. What happened? He was _happy_. Please let him go back. Please give him Viktor back. 

A gut wrenching scream sounds throughout the rink and echoes against the walls, making everyone stop and look for the source. Phichit and Celestino jump, no longer worrying about Yuuri having a concussion, but worrying about his mental wellbeing. The two look at each other and come to the conclusion that Yuuri needs to get home. Phichit tries to help his friend up, but Yuuri doesn’t budge. He’s bent over, shaking and crying. Everyone in the rink stares, despite Celestino trying to make them go back to their practice. They all know Yuuri has anxiety, this shouldn’t be something new. But his cries sound anguished, and Yuuri has always hated crying in front of everyone.

Yuuri doesn’t know what to do. Everything that he thought was real isn’t, and it’s like all the progress he’s made towards a better life got washed away. He breathes like Wile E. Coyote dropped a cartoon anvil onto his chest, leaving him for dead. His lungs ache with the stab of a thousand knives and his heart shatters until nothing but sand is left. His body agonizes like he’s forced to drag a thousand pounds of chain with every step.

Any logical thoughts he has are pushed to the recesses of his mind. He’s too overwhelmed by the abrupt loss of his life that his senses simultaneously shut down and engulf him. The sound of blades scratching the ice, the bright lights overhead, the voices all trying to talk and calm him down are quick to become too much. He needs to get away, to somewhere quiet, but his legs have become jelly and he can’t stand. 

Hands on his shoulders help him up, but he doesn’t want those hands on him. He attempts to push them off, but finds that his arms are nothing but limp noodles attached to his body. He’s forced to lean heavily against the person helping him, unable to stand on his own. Of all times to come back to, why did it have to be before Viktor? Why couldn’t he have gone back to a time when Viktor was in his life? When they were happy?

He vaguely registers someone, Phichit probably, moving him around, forcing his body to move in ways he can’t get it to. Skates that make walking painful and wobbly get replaced with tennis shoes. A jacket goes around his shoulders and is zipped up. Cold air bites his face, making the tears on his face freeze. He’s numb to it all. Nothing can match the intense hollowness in his chest.

His body moves on autopilot, doing what it deems necessary to stay alive long enough to get somewhere safe. Truthfully, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever come out of autopilot. He should withdraw from the skating season. He knows he’ll self-destruct like he did all those years ago. At this rate he’ll never make it to the GPF. He doesn’t remember his programs anyways. Relearning them now, while he can barely function is unthinkable. Maybe next year he can try again, or not. He doesn’t know. Giving up this year might mean losing the life he knew completely, but all already seemed lost. Would it really make a difference whether he skated or retired?

He’s afraid he’s forgetting something important, but nothing substantial stands out. All he remembers is his life with Viktor. College life be damned. He forgot about his days in university so long ago, he doesn’t care if he’s forgetting tests or some stressful project he has to work on alone because his group is incompetent. All he wants to remember is Viktor. Their near constant hugs, the back and forth teasing, the kisses, the comfort, the inside jokes, the fights over who does dishes, their unofficial adoption of Yurio, the Saturday nights they’d spend with their friends, all of it. The good, the bad, the inbetween, he wants it all back.

What did he do to deserve this? Is this punishment for taking Viktor from the world? It’s a little late for that though, isn’t it? It’s been years since he and Viktor retired, even more since they’ve been married. Why punish him now? If it’s not worldly punishment, is he dead? Is he in Hell? How did he die though? He can’t recall anything that could’ve led to his death. Everything in his head is so jumbled and bewildering that he doesn’t know what to do. 

He gets pushed onto something cushioned. It’s not comfortable by any means, but it’s soft and safe. He falls to the side and curls up, tears continuing to streak down his face onto the pillow beneath his head. A blanket gets pulled over his body, shielding him further from the Hell of outside. 

“Yuuri, would you like some tea?” Phichit asks, kneeling by his bed.

Yuuri shakes his head. He knows anything he puts into his stomach is going to come right back out. His anxiety is through the roof. He’s sure that if he doesn’t quell the deep sense of dread in his stomach then he’ll be running to the bathroom. His head is absolutely pounding too, only adding to his nausea.

“Alright. Do you want to talk about it?” Phichit gently presses, trying to help his friend.

Another shake of his head, he doesn’t feel like he can talk about it. Burdening Phichit with his anxiety isn’t something he feels inclined to do. He knows, too, that Phichit won’t be able to say anything he wants to hear, that Phichit won’t know what to do. It’s not worth it to put his best friend through something like that. 

Yuuri stares ahead of him. On the wall, he sees a poster of Viktor. The sand of his heart begins to blow away as he stares at that poster. It’s been so long since he’s seen any of his posters, having taken them all down quite a few years back. He put photos of the real Viktor on their walls instead, leaving the large pieces of paper to sit in a box in storage. What used to be manipulated posters of Viktor became candid photos of them both and their family. He turns around, unable to look at the poster any longer. 

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything.” Phichit pats his shoulder before leaving the room.

Yuuri wonders briefly if Phichit can return him back to his life. It’s an absurd thought, one that he squashes down just as it comes up. It’s as outrageous as thinking he might not be alone, that Viktor might be here too. He understands though, that it’s impossible. The least preposterous thing he’s thought is that his life was a reality made up from his anxiety. That demon in his head hasn’t shut up since he got off the ice. 

He knows, deep down, that the whispers in his head are wrong. That they’re a product of the dread in his chest and anxiety in his head. He knows that when he manages to rid himself of that gnawing feeling in his stomach he’ll be fine. He knows this. He just needs to distract himself until he can put that feeling behind him, and all will be well. He just doesn’t have the energy to move and grab his phone or laptop to put a movie on.

He’s not sure how long he lays there. The tears have stopped, leaving nothing but a nasty pillow, a gruesome headache, and a sore throat. He swears he’ll have an ulcer soon if he doesn’t do something about his stomach. His thoughts are still flying a million miles a second. He’d probably have a Guinness world record for the fastest thoughts if it was possible. In this timeline, it’d be his first- no, his only- world record.

Phichit is cooking something in the kitchen. He smells it, and on a normal day he’d be eager to eat whatever it is, but right now he’s desperately trying to keep his stomach fluids down. Stomach acid rises in his throat with every swallow, and he prays the smell will dissipate soon.

When the aromas of food and something burning (Phichit sometimes forgets he’s cooking when he tries to simultaneously post on every social media account he has) don’t disperse, Yuuri finds himself launching out of bed and rushing into the bathroom. He empties the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl before him, glad for the release. 

He feels lighter now. That dread mostly gone and his headache eased ever so slightly. Maybe this is what he needed to release the grip of anxiety on his guts. It certainly helped to get him on his feet, forcing energy into his bones. He has control of his movements now too. 

“Yuuri? Yuuri are you alright?” Phichit calls, footsteps drawing nearer.

“Yeah,” He croaks out, flushing the toilet. He stands and leans against the sink, “I’m fine.” 

He splashes his face with cold water, cupping his hands together and sticking them under the running faucet to bring refreshing liquid to his lips. He swishes it in his mouth and spits it out, gathering a towel in his hands and drying his face. He grabs a tissue and blows his nose, wincing when his head throbs at the action. He walks out of the bathroom and is greeted with the sight of Phichit standing on his toes to get a bowl down. It’s too bright in the common area.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Phichit asks when he sees him.

“No,” Yuuri answers honestly, coughing as he tries to speak past his raw throat, “I’m not. But I’m better.” He doesn’t want to say anything more.  
“Okay,” Phichit nods, dishing his slightly burnt food up, “That’s what matters. Do you want me to make you something?”

“No, I’m not really hungry…” Yuuri trails off, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. His hands shake and he struggles to get the plastic bottle open. He gets it on the fourth try, thankfully managing to not spill as he takes a sip. He wants to run back to the safety of his dark room.

“Okay. Well, when you’re feeling up to it just let me know.” Phichit takes his bowl and sits down at the makeshift dining table. It’s really just a chair and the counter, but who’s judging?

“Thank you, Phichit. I appreciate it.” Yuuri mumbles, finally shuffling back into his room. He hears his best friend hum with a mouthful of food as he closes the door. He wants to scream. He needs to talk to someone, but he can’t go to Phichit, Mari is probably asleep, Viktor’s unreachable. He’s got no one but himself. He’ll lose to his anxiety soon.

He grabs his laptop and phone before he collapses back to bed. Might as well put on a movie as background noise and drown out the monsters. He has no idea what movie to put on though. Something that won’t spike the anxiety, but something interesting. He ends up going to Netflix and putting on some random American Christmas movie and sets it at the lowest possible volume and brightness. 

The laptop gets left on the foot of his bed as he lays down. He stares at the wall, refusing to look around the room. He wants desperately for this to be a dream, but he knows even in his sleep anxiety never gets this bad. The pain he’s in wouldn’t be so real. That doesn’t stop him from fiercely wishing for something to tell him the life he lived wasn’t all fake.

The sign comes in the form of a text some time later. The movie playing in the background has long since finished, leaving the device to play the screensaver until it dies. His phone vibrating brings him out of his cloud of misery. At first he’s hesitant to answer whoever’s contacting him, but the phone vibrates a second time two minutes later, garnering his attention once more. Yuuri picks up his phone and sees who’s messaged him.

“Is Barcelona important to you...?” The text reads. His phone doesn’t recognize the number, but he does. He knows the meaning behind the text. _Viktor_. His heart starts pounding for an entirely new reason now.

He doesn’t think to text a reply, much preferring to call and speak to his husband. The phone rings for half a second before it’s picked up. “ _Vitya_.” He chokes out, tears springing to his eyes.

“ _Yuuri_.” Viktor’s voice is no different than his own. He can hear that his husband has been crying too, and his heart clenches. “Yuuri you’re _alive_ ”

“Of course I’m alive, Vitya.” Yuuri says, holding back a sob. “What makes you think I wouldn’t be?”

“Yuuri...don’t you remember?” Viktor asks cautiously, like this is a topic he doesn’t want to talk about.

Yuuri feels his heart stop. What is Viktor talking about? What’s he forgetting? Does this have to do with the soreness in his body? The dread that’s held him in its clutches all day? “No.” He breathes.

“Yuuri, _solnyshko_ , we were-” Viktor pauses, and Yuuri can hear the tremble in Viktor’s breaths. He can hear Viktor trying to calm himself down. He wants nothing more than to reach through the phone and comfort his husband. 

“Viktor what is it?” He asks, panic rising through his body.

“We were hit by a car.” Comes the whispered reply. Yuuri’s breath hitches, his heart stopping at the meaning Viktor’s words imply.

“Oh.” Is all he can say. He tries to process this information, letting it sink in that this very well could be the afterlife. “Are you okay?” 

“No,” Viktor answers truthfully, “No, I’m not okay. I saw you- and then I- and I didn’t-”

“ _Vitya_ , shh...it’s okay. It’s okay. I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s okay. It’s okay.” Yuuri simultaneously tries to comfort Viktor and himself with his words. They have each other. It’ll be fine. They’ll figure this out.

“We’re both here.” Viktor sniffles, “We’re both here.”

“I was so scared.” Yuuri whispers, sitting up and bringing his knees to his chest, “I woke up on the ice to Phichit and Celestino telling me I needed to be ready for Skate Canada, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“I know, _zolotse_ , me too,” Viktor’s also been reduced to whispers, “I thought you left me, and then it became 2015 and I didn’t know if you even existed here.”

“I’d never leave you.” Yuuri whispers, reassuring.

“I know.”

“Viktor...do you think we’ll ever get back to our life?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do we have to wait until the GPF to see each other?”

“No,” Viktor laughs, “I’m in the middle of booking a ticket to Detroit right now actually.”

Yuuri begins to laugh too, “I should’ve known you’d do that.”

“Well, what else do you expect from me? I’ve flown to Japan before, Detroit’s no different!”

“Can you bring Makka?”

“Of course.”

“Vitya?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you remember your programs from this year?”

“Aside from Stammi Vicino? Nope.”

“Neither do I.”

He loves hearing Viktor laugh, especially when Makkachin starts barking to mimic the excitement. He doesn’t need to see Viktor to know the way his lips curl up in a mixture of sadness and happiness. He doesn’t need to see Viktor to know the way his eyes shine with tears and joy. But that doesn’t stop him from yearning to see the way Viktor shines. 

“The soonest flight out leaves after tomorrow.” Yuuri can hear Viktor’s pout, and chuckles.

“How long can you stay for?”

“A couple days. I’ll have to get some practice in before I head off for competitions, and I know you’ve got Skate Canada coming up. It’s so weird being in a younger body. My knees aren’t in any pain!”

“Right? My back doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s nice.”

“Mmm...it’ll be even nicer when I get there and we can _properly_ get reacquainted with these bodies.”

“Vitya!”

“Yes, _zolotse_?”

“You can’t just say things like that!”

“Oh? Are you excited?”

“Vitya, _please_.”

“Yuuri…” Viktor drawls, “are you alone?”

“Oh my gosh _Viktor_.” Yuuri leans back against the wall, exasperated by his husband’s remarks.

“Okay okay, I’ll save it for when I get there.”

“We’ll have to stay in a hotel. Phichit can’t know we’re together yet.”

“Hmm...I forgot we’re not supposed to know each other. What will you tell him when you come back?”

“I...have no idea.” Yuuri sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“You can tell him you’re on a secret mission?”

“A secret mission for what, Vitya?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe I’ll tell him I’m secretly part of the Yakuza trying to seduce the Pakhan of the Bratva.”

“We can make that into a reality.”

“Viktor!”

“Yes, _kotyonok_?”

“Stop it!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, love.”

“Mhmm. Sure you don’t. I’ll pay for the hotels.”

“Hotels? Yuuri, are we hotel hopping?”

“No? Unless you coming here is a one time deal? I can’t afford flying to St. Petersburg with my college funds.”

“Oh! You’re thinking ahead, I like it.”

“I try.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try updated every week. I just started classes, and they're all online so I have no idea how much of my time they'll take up. We'll start getting out of angst and into more fluffy/crack things soon, I promise! If you have any ideas/tropes/prompts you want to see in this fic send me a message on [ tumblr](https://mx-on-ice.tumblr.com) or comment and I'll see about incorporating them into the story! Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Ode to Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri talk throughout the night. Viktor dreams and Yuuri has a nightmare. Rip to Phichit's DVD collection

“Vitya isn’t it like, 2am for you right now?” Yuuri asks, shifting around on whatever it was he was sitting on. Viktor doesn't know, but he imagines it’s a bed. Viktor has long since moved to his, knowing he’ll fall asleep while on the phone with his beloved husband and wanting to do it somewhere comfortable.

“Yeah, why?” Viktor asks, staring at the ceiling. He raises his right hand, barely visible in the dark room. He misses his ring dearly. Nothing feels right without it sitting on his finger.

“You have practice tomorrow. And a flight to catch soon after.” Yuuri speaks softly. 

“I will gladly go to practice tomorrow with zero sleep if it meant I kept talking to you.” Viktor’s not used to spending more than a few hours away from his husband. Sure, there were days when they couldn’t go to a photoshoot or sponsorship meeting together, but those were often quickly made up for in the most _delightful_ of ways. The last time Viktor slept without his husband was before they officially moved into Viktor’s St. Petersburg apartment together. 

“I suppose I can’t argue with that.” Yuuri sighs. Viktor wishes he could see his husband. He wants to see the way his brows furrow and lips part when he’s thinking, or the way his eyes light up everytime Viktor says _home_. He wants to hold him in his arms and whisper _I love you_ until his voice goes hoarse. He thinks about how in less than forty eight hours he’ll be with Yuuri again and feels his heart speed up. He’ll only have a few days with his beloved, and he’ll be damned if they don’t make the most of their time.

“It would be very hypocritical of you if you did.” Viktor chuckles, bringing his right hand to his chest. It’s the closest thing to comfort he can get with his ring gone. Makkachin won’t let him cuddle her, either.

“I just had a thought.” Yuuri says suddenly. Viktor can hear him sitting up.

“Hmm?” Viktor hums, already feeling the tugs of sleep try to reign him in. He ignores it.

“There’s so many movies and games and TV shows that are going to be so hard not to spoil.” He voices his epiphany, sounding distraught at the realization.

Viktor laughs, turning to face Yuuri’s side of the bed. He likes to imagine he’s there with him. “You can become some kind of psychic and ‘predict’ everything that happens.”

“Do you realize what Phichit will do if I did that?”

“Oh I’d imagine he’d start a social media account for psychic predictions.” 

“Worse probably. By the way, I meant to ask earlier, how do you plan on telling Yakov you’re leaving for a bit?”

“Oh Yuuri, don’t you know by now? Yakov’s blood pressure is bad enough already, I can’t possibly tell him.” 

He hears Yuuri laugh, and smiles at the sound. “I’ll remind you to buy him something before you leave.”

“Buy what exactly? Meds for his blood pressure?”

“Sure. We both know he needs it. He’s dealing with you, an angry kitten, a drama queen, Mila…” 

“What do you mean he’s dealing with me?”

“Nothing~” Yuuri replies in a singsong voice. Viktor tries to be offended, but deep down he knows exactly what Yuuri means. He can certainly be a handful to deal with, especially when Yuuri is around. After all, how can you possibly expect him to not obsess over his beautiful spouse every second?

“Tell me about Detroit.” Viktor requests, hand reaching out to the emptiness beside him. It’s cold, and lonely, and it doesn’t smell of anything that screams home. He’s back in a time when he only came to his apartment to sleep and it hurts. This isn’t home. Home is over four thousand miles away. 

“What’s there to tell? It’s cold, bland, boring. The only thing I’ve ever done here is go to school and practice. Phichit’s dragged me out to a few malls and clubs before.”

“Mmm...tell me about school? What classes are you retaking?” 

“I’m supposed to be finishing my degree, so I’ve got a bunch of psych classes and one gen ed that I’ve been putting off. It’s a math class and I’m not sure how I’m going to get up to speed in it. Wayne State is a big campus, right in the middle of the city. Some buildings are old enough that they still have chalkboards, and others are newer. I like the newer buildings, they’re very technologically advanced. The older ones remind me of high school. The food court’s nice, though it gets expensive to eat there. They have a place that alternates restaurants, so that’s cool. Ugh I’m not looking forward to going back to classes. Do you think I can get away with not going to the lectures?”

Viktor doesn't answer him. Listening to Yuuri talk while pretending he’s physically with him has Viktor falling asleep already. It’s been a rollercoaster of a day. He’s cried, felt incredibly lonely, been happy to find out Yuuri remembered them, and ached for Yuuri’s presence. Emotionally, he’s exhausted. Skaters' hearts are fragile, and his is no exception.

“Viktor?” Yuuri prompts.

“Yes, _zolotse_?” He mumbles, forcing his eyes to open. The air bites at his eyes causing him to blink rapidly.

“I was asking if you thought I can get away with skipping lectures.”

“Mmm...probably? I know you use what you've learned is psychology a lot. You probably shouldn’t skip math though.”

“I suppose you’re right. Phichit will go after my ass if he finds out I’ve been skipping.”

“Yuuri, I will fight anyone who comes for your ass, regardless of intentions.”

“May I point out the many times you have come for my ass?”

“Are you referring to when I first flew out to Japan?”

“Good, I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“That is a completely different circumstance.”

“Is it? What makes it so different?”

“It’s different because we’re married. Answering a booty call is perfectly acceptable between spouses.”

“Oh I see. Except, there's a slight problem with your logic. We weren’t married when you did that.”

“Mmm…but we’re married now aren’t we? So it’s fine.”

“I suppose…”

“Mhmm…”

“You’re falling asleep.”

“Yeah...keep talking.”

“Okay. I think, since we can’t really risk going out in public for now, I’ll record a video tour of my campus for you. I know you missed out on the whole college experience, and since we’re here, I’ll do my best to give it to you. Might be a bit boring though...I’m not...history…” Yuuri’s words began to blur together, becoming a stream of unintelligible morphemes until Viktor heard them no more. 

_”Dance with me, Yuuri,” Viktor requests, standing beside the couch and holding his hands out expectantly._

_Outside, snow silently falls to the ground, coating everything in a fresh layer of white dust. Winter nights in St. Petersburg had always been the epitome of solitude. They’d surround Viktor in an inescapable cold, leaving him holding Makkachin close in an effort to warm up. Viktor doesn’t think about those days anymore._

_“Vitya, it’s late.” Yuuri looks up from his book, nothing but his index finger keeping it from closing. His glasses sit low on his nose, slightly askew. Viktor can’t help but reach out and gently push them back up._

_“It’s only midnight.” Viktor coaxes, gently taking Yuuri's book from him, marking his place and setting the book on the coffee table._

_Yuuri makes a noncommittal noise, but stands anyways, wrapping his arms loosely around Viktors neck. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”_

_“I try to be,” Viktor shrugs, arms going around his husband's waist._

_Only their quiet breathing and the ticks of a clock can be heard throughout the apartment. The leftover aroma of poorly heart shaped chocolate chip cookies permeates the air, long after they finished baking together. A plate filled with the cookies sits on the counter, tempting. The single source of light comes from the lamp that sits beside the couch, casting a warm glow across their skin. It’s an incredibly intimate moment; a moment Viktor wishes he could capture and keep for a thousand years to come._

_Viktor sways them, taking a tiny step back to get a rhythm going. They circle around, sidestepping furniture and listening to the quiet music their bodies create together. His forehead comes to rest against Yuuri’s, eyes slowly falling closed as he loses track of the seconds that pass by._ Perfect _, Viktor thinks. He could say a million words in five languages, but none can come close to the love and peace he feels._

_This dance is nothing like their first meeting. There’s no laughter or punctuated moves meant for enthralling an audience. No slurred words and drunken promises. No coaches there to interrupt the moment. Rather, it’s silence and a gentle sway meant for only the two of them, small smiles dancing on their lips._

_Words manifest themselves in ways only lovers could understand. Yuuri says _I love you_ in the way he absently plays with the hair on the nape of Viktor’s neck, in the near inaudible breaths he takes and in the curl of his lips. Viktor replies with his own _I love you_ etching it’s way from his hands onto Yuuri’s hips, fingers drawing small patterns along the skin under his shirt. His lips part, carrying whispers of a promise to never let him go. _

_They stay in the serenity of their bubble for a long time, retiring to bed only when both of their knees start protesting. In the darkness of their room, they kiss lazily, lips sliding over one another’s with a promise of forever. Yuuri’s hand rests on Viktor’s bicep, his thumb leisurely moving up and down a small expanse of the muscle. Viktor cards his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, the soft tufts gliding through his touch. Makkachin joins them on their bed, settling herself by their feet. Their movements slow as sleep catches up to them, and all too soon Viktors being dragged back into an unwelcome darkness._

Viktor wakes with a cloudy head and hazy vision. He reaches out to Yuuri’s side of the bed, expecting him to still be there. It takes him a moment to remember everything that’s happened, and when he does it’s like a punch to the gut. Waking up alone hurts more now than ever. Viktor retracts his hand, biting back tears. The only comfort he finds solace in is knowing he will have Yuuri in his arms soon. 

He drags himself out of bed, numbly going through the motions of getting ready for a day of practice. Last night he and Yuuri went through videos of their programs to figure out what they’re supposed to be doing with their respective routines. They sent each other what self recorded videos they had on their phones, and talked about improvements that could be made. They even worked out a plan so that Viktor could subtly coach him. Yuuri will record his practices, and Viktor will go through them with him as soon as they both have time. 

Viktor takes Makkachin out for a morning walk, keeping her on a short leash so no accidents can happen. He wonders if he’s overreacting, but he’d much rather be safe than sorry. He’s already lost so much, he didn’t want to lose anymore. Last night, he had hoped he’d go to sleep and wake up to find it’s all a dream. But life is cruel. He’s just glad he got to keep Yuuri in this reality.

After bringing Makkachin back to the apartment and grabbing his skate bag, Viktor heads out to start the day. He grabs breakfast at the corner cafe he and Yuuri frequent, and stops by the drugstore to get something for Yakov. Bless that man. He needs a vacation. He’ll have to talk with Yuuri to see about sending him to the Bahamas after the GPF.

As he walks into the ice rink, Viktor’s phone vibrates in his back pocket. He pulls his phone out and frowns when he sees Yuuri’s name on the screen. He should be asleep. Viktor answers, holding his phone between his shoulder and ear as he pushes his way into the locker room. “Yuuri?”

“Vitya,” Yuuri chokes on the nickname, hiccuping and sniffling, “I- I- I remember-”

“ _Baby_ , what’s wrong?” Viktor’s heart rate speeds up. He loses his grip on his duffle bag and immediately holds his phone properly. His entire being screams at him to drop everything and run to Yuuri, to be there and hold him. He hates not being with Yuuri when he’s in distress.

“I-I-” He’s sobbing, stumbling over his words, “the acc-accident. I had a dream.”

“Oh _lyubov moya_ ,” Viktor’s heart stops. When Yuuri said he didn’t remember it, Viktor had been relieved. He thought his husband had been spared the horror, but it seems their cruel fate had only delayed his memories. “I’m here. We’re okay. I’m okay. You’re okay. Talk to me, baby. What do you see?”

* * *

Yuuri talks for at least another hour after he knew Viktor had fallen asleep. He tells him of how happy he is to be with him. He talks about the posters that are back up on his walls, about how he can’t wait for Viktor to visit, even if he can’t show him around. He doesn’t speak in English, not wanting his best friend to overhear anything. He cherishes his friendship with Phichit, but some things are too intimate to share with anyone but the person it’s for. When his stomach starts rumbling and his mouth goes dry, Yuuri decides to end the call. “I love you.” He whispers, hesitantly hanging up.

He didn’t want to say goodbye, even if he knows his phone is begging him to hang up and charge it for the second time. Just listening to Viktor breathe had been enough for Yuuri. He hates being so far away from his husband at such a sensitive time. He knows Viktor is suffering with the memories of what happened by himself, and he yearns to be able to help. 

He stares at his phone for a while, not sure what to do now that he’s stopped talking to Viktor. His phone lights up with a random notification, revealing a picture of Vicchan. Yuuri feels his heart constrict. He’s long since accepted what’s happened, but now that he’s here...could he prevent his dog’s death? He opens his messages and texts Mari, pleading with her to keep an eye on Vicchan and not let him go out without a leash. He can only pray that things are changeable.

He pushes himself out of bed, stumbling a little as he makes his way out to the mini kitchen area. He’s hungry now, and instant ramen sounds delicious. He knows it’s probably not the best thing for him to eat, but he can’t find it in himself to care much. 

“Welcome to the land of the living.” Phichit says from the couch, turning to look at Yuuri. The King and the Skater plays on the TV in front of him.

“Thanks.” Yuuri says, pulling out a pot and filling it with water.

“Who were you talking to in there?” Phichit wiggles his eyebrows, “Sounded like you had a blast.”

“Oh, just someone I’ve known for awhile.” Yuuri says, trying to brush off the inevitable questions he knows are coming.

“I’m hurt Yuuri,” Phichit throws himself back onto the couch, dramatically casting an arm over his face, “And since when do you speak Russian?”

“Phichit I’m taking Russian classes.” Yuuri rolls his eyes

“I know! But last week you could hardly speak it and now you’re speaking it fluently.”

“I’ve been studying.”

“I don’t believe you. But whatever. How come I’ve never heard of this friend until now?”

“They’ve never come up?” Yuuri offers. He feels guilty about keeping Viktor a secret, but he also can’t risk the social media exposure. Besides, how can he explain his relationship with Viktor? No one in their right mind would believe the time travel thing.

“Hmm...I’ll let you off the hook tonight. But only if you come with me to that party I was telling you about on Tuesday night. You know, that really cute guy Collin will be there. His even cuter friend Ryan will also be there.”

Yuuri froze. Viktor’s still going to be in town on Tuesday, and he really did not want to have to go to a party and have Phichit attempt to hook him up with someone. He’s a married man now! He’s completely committed to Viktor. “Sorry Phichit, but I’ve got a big test coming up, and I really need to study for it. Maybe next time? Also, Collin really isn’t that cute”

Phichit huffs, “Fine. But how can you say he isn’t cute when you talked about crushing on him last week?! You’ll be missing out on some good dick. ”

“Oh Phichit,” Yuuri laughs, “don’t you know there’s only one man for me?”

“You go on ten minute rants every day about how perfect Viktor Nikiforov is. It’s even worse when you’re drunk. Of course I know you only have eyes for the skating god.” Phichit deadpans, “Oh my gosh on second thought don’t come to this party. I love you Yuuri, but if you start drunk ranting about Viktor’s wonderful ass again at a party, I will personally kill you with the blades of your skates.”

“What if I ranted about Viktor’s eyes instead?” Yuuri drops the dried noodles into the boiling water and turns to his friend.

“That’s even worse. You’ll never get hitched. And I’ll never get a date because I have to stop you.” Phichit acts like that’s the worst thing to happen, but Yuuri sees the mirth in his eyes. 

“You could just leave me alone to cry about Viktor. You never know, one day I may be calling myself Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov.” Yuuri turns away to hide the fond smile on his lips. 

Phichit snorts, “When that happens, I will sell my King and the Skater DVDs. Also, do you know what happened to my ‘fuck me harder’ shirt? I can’t find it anywhere.”

“I haven’t seen that shirt in forever Phichit. Are you sure it didn’t get thrown out? And are you including your limited edition DVDs?”

“It better not have.” Phichit wails, turning back to the TV. “No, I will not sell my limited edition DVDs. Those ones, regardless of bets, will stay safe. Glad to see you’re feeling better, by the way.”

“Thanks for helping me earlier. I know it wasn’t easy.” Yuuri finishes cooking his ramen, pouring it into a bowl and sitting at the counter.

“It was a bad day today, I get it.” 

Yuuri is glad to have a friend like Phichit. The conversation comes to a halt with Yuuri eating and Phichit watching his movie. 

Yuuri soon finishes his dinner, and quickly finishes the dishes. He drags his limbs around, exhaustion creeping up on him. It’s been such a hectic day. He’s ready to go to bed and sleep.

He shuts the door to his room, shedding himself of his clothes and replacing them with something far more comfortable for bed. He crawls into bed, pulling his blanket around him and settling in for the night, gladly letting sleep take him.

_”Vitya, how does a romantic dinner sound tonight?” Yuuri asks, looking up at his husband._

_“What do you have in mind?” Viktor asks in return, squeezing his hand._

_“I’m thinking pasta for dinner, anmitsu or crêpes for dessert, a candlelit table, then a candlelit bath, bed.” Yuuri swings their hands between them, “And then this Sunday we can go out, see a movie, go somewhere romantic for dinner, take a walk…”_

_“You spoil me Yuuri,” Viktor laughs, bringing Yuuri’s hand to his lips and kissing the back of it, “that sounds wonderful, _solnyshko_. You wanted to see that new Marvel movie right?”_

_“Yeah, the new Spider-Man movie.” Yuuri confirms, squeezing Viktor’s hand._

_They stop at a crosswalk and wait for the light to signal for them to start walking. Yuuri leans against Viktor, content to stand there all day. In the end, his want to get them home and in the mood overrules his other feelings, so he eagerly pulls Viktor along as the signal for them to start crossing goes off._

_Car horns honking make him stop and turn to see what the commotion is. His eyes widen as he sees the pickup truck coming for them. Viktor pulls him close, likely already knowing they don’t have time to avoid being hit. He knows Viktor is trying to protect him, but he can’t let the man he loves sacrifice himself like that. He shifts them before Viktor can know what he’s doing, hoping he’ll end up taking the worst of the hit. “I love you.” He hears Viktor whisper in his ear._

_Viktor’s declaration of love is the last moment of clarity he has before he feels the impact of the truck. Viktor’s torn from his arms when they’re both sent flying through the air. Yuuri hits the pavement hard, pain shooting through his body. It starts in his head, then rapidly swells to the rest of his body._

_He sees Viktor’s form lying on the road across from him, too far away to reach. Tears well up in his eyes as he tries to get his limbs to work. The look of pain on Viktor’s face is enough to break him. This is his fault. He should’ve been more aware of their surroundings. “I’m sorry,” He tries to say, “I love you.” He whispers with his last breath. His eyes fall closed against his will, the last thing they see is Viktor in pain._

_The perspective changes. Now, Yuuri stares at them both, watching as blood spills onto the black ground. He sees people crowding around them, everyone in varying states of shock. An ambulance pulls up to the scene, and paramedics rush out to attend to the two men. Yuuri walks to Viktor, kneeling beside his body and attempting to touch his cheek. He cries when his hand goes straight through his body._

_The EMTs are quick to get them as stable as possible, and each male gets put on a gurney and loaded into an ambulance. Yuuri numbly follows Viktor’s body, relieved that he’s still clinging to life. If Yuuri’s dead, at least Viktor can still continue on and look after Makkachin. Yuuri briefly wonders how he’s doing, but figures that since he’s here, it can’t be good._

_  
_

_Something begins to tug on him, and Yuuri has half the mind to fight it and stay with Viktor, but he can’t seem to resist the call. He doesn’t want to leave. If he leaves he won’t see Viktor again, though he knows he has to. He’s already overstayed his welcome in this world. The pull gets stronger until he’s left in darkness._

Yuuri wakes sweating and crying, gasping for air. _Viktor_ , he thinks, desperately trying to reach for his phone. He fumbles around looking for the damned device. He can barely see in the dark without his glasses and through tear filled eyes. He finds it eventually, tumbling off his bed when he tries to stretch and pick it off the ground. 

He can barely read the screen as he unlocks his cell phone, muscle memory pressing the call button under Viktor’s contact. He bites his hand in an attempt to stay quiet, not wanting to wake Phichit. Listening to the ringing, he prays that Viktor will answer. What if he’s calling at a bad time? He doesn’t know what Viktor’s schedule is for the day, and he hadn’t bothered to check what time it was in St. Petersburg. 

To his relief, Viktor picks up after a couple rings. “Yuuri?” He sounds awake and confused, concern seeping into his voice. 

“Vitya,” Yuuri chokes, unable to form words around his silent sobs, “I- I- I remember-”

“ _Baby_ , what’s wrong?” Yuuri hears something drop in the background, and hopes it isn’t anything important. Maybe he should’ve waited to call his husband. Viktor has training to get to. He doesn’t need to be dealing with him right now.

“I-I-” He’s bawling, trying to get words out over his anxiety and grief, “the acc-accident. I had a dream.”

“Oh _lyubov moya_ ,” Viktor’s voice is tender, acting as a balm to Yuuri’s suffering, “I’m here. We’re okay. I’m okay. You’re okay. Talk to me, baby. What do you see?”

“I don’t know…” Yuuri moves his head around, trying to make shapes out in the dark, “I- I guess I see the moon?”

“Okay, that’s good. What else do you see, love?”

“My d-desk? And, and the sweater on my floor. It’s hard to see in the dark…”

“That’s okay, darling. What do you hear?”

“I hear you talking...and breathing. There’s some crickets outside too I think.”

He’s starting to calm down. The grounding exercises Viktor is walking him through are helping, and he no longer has to fight to choke back sobs. His mind clears, if only enough to make him think that calling Viktor was definitely the right choice, despite what his anxiety tells him, Yet, images of the accident still flash behind his eyes, and he finds himself desperately wishing to be home.

“What can you feel, _solnyshko_?”

“My heartbeat. The wooden floor beneath me. The bed on my back.”

“How do you feel?” Viktor’s learned a lot about how to deal with his anxiety over the years. Yuuri feels bad for making him deal with it, even though he knows his husband has been more than supportive of him and will help him whenever. He can’t help but feel he shouldn’t reach out, voices in the back of his head telling him he’s overreacting. 

“Better,” Yuuri sniffles, wiping at his eyes. It’s a futile effort, but he can pretend the action will help, “I didn’t disturb you did I?”

“You can never disturb me, _zolotse_ ,” Viktor replies gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I saw it all happen…” Yuuri whispered, bringing his knees up to his chest, “We were almost home, and then a truck came, and I tried to save you, because _losing me is better than losing you_ , but we both got hit hard and I-” He stops, putting his head on his knees as he tries to take a calming breath. “I thought I died. I wasn’t in my body, and I tried to get to you, but I couldn’t and then an ambulance took you and I don’t know what happened after that because I woke up and I didn’t know what to do so I called you and I’m sorry…”

Viktor listens to his rambling, letting him get it all out before speaking, “Oh _lyubov moya_ ,” Yuuri hears the strain in Viktor’s voice, and knows he’s hurting just as much. “I don’t know what to say I-” Viktor audibly takes a deep, shuddering breath, unable to continue for some minutes. “I’m proud of you for calling. I wish I was there with you right now.” he whispers in the end.

“I wish you were here too…” Yuuri replies, forcing himself to talk through his constricted throat, “I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t in this world too…”

“No,” Viktor’s voice is stronger, “No. Don’t think like that. We’re not dead. We’re here, and we’re together. Whatever happened, we’re in this together. I won’t leave you. Last night you told me that you would never leave me, and I’m telling you the same. I love you, Yuuri.”

“I love you too, _Vitya_.” Yuuri struggles to get up, but he manages to get back in bed. He pulls the covers up, cocooning in them and pretending Viktor’s arms are around him, “I’m sorry, I know you have practice. I should let you go.”

To his surprise, Viktor chuckles, “Practice can wait. I’ll make it up to Yakov by winning at the GPF. For now, I intend to stay on the phone with my husband.” 

Yuuri’s grateful for the change in mood, and slightly relaxes, “Winning the GPF, hmm? You sound awfully confident you’re going to win. What happens when you get silver?”

“If I get silver, I’ll make dinner for a month and do all the cleaning and buying and everything myself.”

“All of it? Including putting the dishes away and cleaning off the table?”

“All of it.”

“And what if you get gold?”

“If I get gold, then we’re getting married.”

“We’re already married?”

“We’re not married in this universe though.”

“Okay, you’re on.”

“Bet.”

“Bet.”

“VIKTOR WHERE ARE YOU?” Yuuri distantly hears Yurio yell, and smiles to himself as Viktor says, “Uh-oh angry kitten alert.”

“Careful, you better not let him hear you say that.”

“I think I’m more concerned about saying ‘Yurio’ than I am with kitten,” Viktor chuckles. “Yura! Do you need something?” Viktor asks, pausing his conversation with Yuuri. The two Russians go back and forth, Yuuri listening on bemusedly. “Sorry love, it seems I’ll be taking you with me to practice today.” Viktor says, turning his attention back to Yuuri. He switches to speaking in Japanese, and Yuuri can hear Yurio angrily asking when Viktor learned the language. Viktor ignores him. 

“You don’t have to stay on the phone you know.” Yuuri tells him, words betraying his heart. He’d definitely prefer it if Viktor stayed on the phone with him, at least until he fell asleep.

“Nonsense! I just won’t work on any jumps. You can help me with my step sequences too!” 

“ _Vitya_ I can’t help you when I can’t see you.”

“Oh, right. Well, I can at least still talk to you.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you as long as you promise not to let me distract you.”

“Promise. That is, as long as you promise not to say anything even remotely suggestive.”

“Who? Me? I’m innocent”

“Mhmm, sure you are, my love.”

Yuuri laughs, slipping into an easy conversation with Viktor. He can hear Yakov yelling at him to get off the phone, but in typical Viktor fashion, his husband ignores his coach. It’s through listening to Viktor laugh and bicker with Yurio that he’s able to fall into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Been editing this a lot and lots of school work. By now I'm sure y'all are starting to notice that chapter titles are song titles lol. Thank you for reading! And please let me know if there's anything you want to see in this story, be it a certain trope, quote, or scene. I'd love to incorporate your guys' ideas!


	4. Holding Onto You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After waking up in the past, Viktor and Yuuri are finally meeting! Also, secrets get uncovered and friends interrupt at the worst of times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where the tag "brief explict content" comes from. Also, quite a bit of swearing at times so be prepared for that. Welcome to the rollercoaster of a chapter :D

Yuuri fidgets outside the hotel, biting on his thumbnail while he paces in front of the entrance. Viktor’s due to arrive any minute, and as each second ticks by, Yuuri grows all the more impatient. He swears time is moving slowly just to torture him. Viktor texted him that he landed and is on his way, but that was over an hour ago, and the last time he heard from his husband.

He starts to worry that maybe Viktor got in some kind of accident. A fender bender maybe, or a popped tire, or something worse. It’s probably just traffic, he knows. People are getting off work now, which means traffic is hellacious. Instead of the usual half hour it takes to get from the airport it’s more like an hour. Damn Detroit traffic for delaying his husband. 

The cool crisp air of an October night bites into his skin, taunting and uninviting. It’s one of those more colder nights, the kind that hint winter will soon be on its way. The night sky is cloudy, the smell of rain is in the air as mother nature prepares to release her tears. Life bustles all around as cars drive by and people zoom past, all eager to get to their destinations before they’re caught in the rain.

It’s almost like Detroit is trying its best to be as cold as St. Petersburg to welcome his husband. Has anyone caught onto Viktor leaving Russia when he should be in the middle of training? He wonders if Viktor had any fans come up to him at the airport, or if someone from the press saw him and asked what he’s doing here. _He’s here to see me_ , Yuuri silently marvels, the corners of his lips turning up. Trust Viktor to drop everything to come to him. Gosh, he loves that man.

He’s brought out of his musings by a taxi cab pulling up right in front of him. The door opens and out jumps a big ball of brown. Yuuri promptly gets attacked by said ball of fluff and falls to the ground. He laughs, arms wrapping around the brown poodle and letting her lick his face.

“I’m terribly sorry about my dog,” a deep voice says to his right, low and in his ear, “she’s had a quite a long flight and is very restless.” 

“It’s okay. I’m a dog person.” Yuuri replies, scratching behind the dog’s ears.

“You are? Can I get your number?” the male beside Yuuri asks excitedly.

“Sorry, but I’m married.” Yuuri grins, finally turning his head to look at the person next to him.

“I don’t see a ring.” Comes the whispered reply.

“No, I’m afraid it got lost. My husband has to win gold in a skating competition before I can get it back.” 

“Damn. I suppose there’s nothing I can do. I just wanted to take you out for coffee.” Viktor laughs, gleeful eyes shining bright.

“Really? Coffee? That’s too cheesy Vitya. Try something else.” Yuuri chuckles, turning his attention back to Makkachin.

“Well, I suppose we could skip dinner and go straight for bed.” Viktor muses, putting his index finger to his lips in thought. “Would you like that instead?”

Yuuri rolls his eyes, “I’ll do anything as long as it’s with you.”

“Yuuuuuri!” Viktor throws himself on Yuuri, nearly knocking Makka out of his lap, “Look who’s the cheesy one now!”

Yuuri laughs, arms going around his husband. “How was your flight?”

“Excruciating and long.” 

“Anyone recognize you?”

“A few. Soon people are going to start speculating who my secret lover is.”

“They won’t be speculating for long.”

“Yuuuuuri!” 

“Come on, let’s go inside.” Yuuri gently nudges both his husband and their dog off him and stands. He takes Makkachin’s leash from Viktor, leaving him to get his suitcase. 

They walk through the lobby hand in hand, arms swinging between them. Yuuri hadn’t paid much attention to the interior before, but now he looks around. It’s Monday, so the hotel is mostly empty, something Yuuri considers a mercy. They, or rather Viktor, are less likely to be recognized. 

There’s a sitting area across from the front desk. A couple armchairs and couches positioned in a way that guests can interact if they wanted. They all surround a fireplace, a picture of comfort, especially now as it gets cold. A long corridor to the right led to a bar and restaurant, and on the opposite side of the lobby is a hallway leading to an indoor swimming pool. 

Yuuri stops looking around when they approach the elevators. There’s a small family of four already waiting to go up. Two kids run around their parents, laughing and hands outstretched to grab the other. The elevator doors open, ending the kids’ fun as their parents usher them in. Viktor and Yuuri follow in after, huddling together in the far left corner to give everyone enough space to be comfortable.

Yuuri presses the button for the seventh floor, leaning back against Viktor’s chest. Makkachin sits patiently at their feet, tail wagging back and forth. The children ask if they can pet her, and Viktor happily tells them they can. Their parents watch them, casting wary glances to Viktor and Yuuri. The reunited couple doesn’t pay attention though, too wrapped up in thoughts about getting to their room to care how others might see them.

The family gets off on the third floor, with kids waving to Makkachin as their parents drag them away. The doors close, and Viktor and Yuuri are finally left alone. Yuuri relaxes against Viktor, head resting against his shoulder. 

“How are you, darling?” Viktor asks, nuzzling his nose into the top of Yuuri’s head. 

“Better.” Yuuri smiles, watching the floor number change from a six to a seven. The doors open and Yuuri eagerly pulls his family out, taking long strides down the hall until finally they reach the last door on the left. Yuuri takes the card from his back pocket, fumbles with it a little bit in his eagerness, and manages to get the door open.

He pushes inside, bending down to unhook Makka’s leash from her collar as Viktor closes the door and switches on the lights. Yuuri becomes hyper aware of how alone they are now. No one to watch on or interrupt and intrude on their privacy. Yuuri feels the floodgates start to open, and suddenly can’t find it in him to stand up from where Makka left him on the floor. 

Viktor’s kneeling by his side in seconds, hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circles. He doesn't attempt any more physical contact, knowing Yuuri will come to him when he’s ready. Yuuri takes solace in his presence, wiping away at the tears falling down his face. Tears no one knew the meaning behind. Not Phichit, not Celestino, not his rinkmates and family. Viktor though, _Viktor knows_. Viktor has cried the same tears, shares the same emotions and trauma. With the sudden realization that he’s not alone anymore, he throws himself into the arms of his husband, and finds a sense of safety he hasn’t felt in days when long, strong arms circle around his body.

Viktor lifts him onto his lap, both males automatically shifting to desperately cling to one another. Yuuri cries into Viktor’s shoulder, clutching at the fabric of his shirt and bunching it up in his fists. He’s sure the perfectly ironed shirt will have permanent wrinkles, but he knows Viktor won’t care. Viktor has never cared about the clothes Yuuri ruins with his bodily fluids. Distantly, he recalls a time when his husband even said he was honored to have clothes ruined for such occasions. Said something about how it meant Yuuri trusted him, and how he’d never wish for anything different. 

Yuuri needed this. He needed to lean on his husband and just cry. Viktor doesn’t whisper soothing words, knowing the pain Yuuri is in all too well. He’s crying too, silent tears that drip down his cheeks onto Yuuri as they share each other’s sorrows. Yuuri can feel the uncomfortable wetness that comes from too many tears on his cheeks and under his chin, in his hair and shoulders. But it’s okay. They need to cry, to lean on each other. 

Makkachin paws at them both, trying to comfort her human and his human (who’s also hers, but she doesn’t know it yet. They’ve only just met after all). Both simultaneously reach out and pat the poodle on the head, but are too wrapped up in emotions to give her proper attention, so she gives up on a direct approach. Instead she offers her support by laying on the ground next to them, head resting on Viktor’s shin and eyes staring at Yuuri, willing her humans to be happy. 

Yuuri’s heart hurts. He’s been so lonely since they travelled back in time. He can’t talk to Phichit about this because Phichit, bless his heart, doesn’t have all the memories they share. And while Yuuri is mostly sure Phichit would accept his time travel explanation, he knew his friend would still be skeptical and ask if Yuuri hit his head a little too hard on the ice. 

And Viktor...talking on the phone just isn’t the same. Not when you’ve had years of near constant touching and love. Phones don’t do justice to the slight tonal changes and voice inflections. They don’t pick up on the rumbling of Viktor’s chest when he rambles, or the flick of his tongue as he wraps his mouth around whatever language he’s chosen to speak in. Cameras do a shit job at picking up his freckles and the way his gorgeous blue eyes sparkle. Moreover, Yuuri can’t feel Viktor’s heartbeat while they FaceTime. He can’t hear the quiet thumping in his husband’s rib cage, or the way his own heartbeat matches his. Technology can’t exhibit the tiniest cues that play the biggest roles in human interactions.

They sit and cry for a long time, neither wanting to be the first to move. A stomach growls, Yuuri can’t tell if it’s his or Viktor’s, and knows it’s time to settle down for the night. He lifts his head, sniffling and uses his own shirt to wipe his nose. Viktor looks at him, eyes red and puffy. It’s a rare sight. Viktor doesn’t usually cry. Yuuri reaches a hand up, and gently touches Viktor’s cheek. “You should shower. You’ve been travelling all day.”

Viktor nods, closing his eyes at the touch. “Okay,” he says, “are you going to join me?”

Yuuri places a tender kiss on Viktor’s lips, “No,” he whispers, “I’m gonna order us a pizza and pick up the room. Next time though.”

Viktor pouts, opening his eyes to look at Yuuri, “You promise?”

“I promise.” Yuuri summons all his energy to move off Viktor’s lap, and helps him up, “Now, go shower.”

“Yes, my love.” Viktor steals a quick peck before heading into the bathroom. 

Yuuri watches him go, hand playing with his right ring finger. He desperately misses the golden band of metal and how it never got cold because he never took it off. He sighs and turns towards the small desk in the corner of the room, picking up the receiver and dialing the number of a nearby pizza place.

After placing their order, he brings Viktor’s suitcase further into the room and leaves it by his own bag. Viktor left the bathroom door cracked open, so Yuuri can clearly hear when Viktor drops something and curses in Russian. He chuckles at his husband, sitting on the bed next to Makkachin. He absently runs his fingers through her curls, staring out the window. 

He’s tempted to stand out on the balcony, but knows it’s not worth the risk of a cold so close to competition season. He doesn’t know what to do about his skating. He knows he should tone down his skating, but his programs now are so easy compared to the ones he skated towards the end of his career that he itches to up the difficulty. He can confidently land all the quads, execute more jumps in his programs, and fly through complicated step sequences. His current program feels mediocre. No wonder he failed so spectacularly skating it the first time. It’s a routine that screams he’s not confident, and neither is his coach.

A knock on the door interrupts him, pulling him onto his feet. He grabs his wallet, opens the door and pays for the pizza, grateful they brought it to him instead of making him go down to the lobby. Setting the large box on the bed, he goes to the minifridge and pulls out a couple bottles of water. He also decides to change into something more comfortable than jeans and a stiff top, so he opts to put on a pair of sweatpants and forgoes the shirt. He feels a little self conscious in this body, he’s got a little fat around his stomach, and his stretch marks are very prominent. It’s ridiculous, he knows, to feel this way. His post retirement body was (is?) far less pleasing. Still, it’s embarrassing to be in the middle of competition season and not be his absolute best. He hopes Viktor won’t call attention to his body, but knows the coach in him likely will eventually. Though the husband in his love will spare him and will love him regardless. 

“Vitya, dinner’s here!” Yuuri calls, sitting in the middle of the bed and turning on the TV to some random channel. He grabs a pillow from behind and hugs it to his body as he waits for Viktor to finish.

His husband comes out of the bathroom a few moments later, hair dripping and pushed off to the side. He’s got one of the white hotel robes on, reminding Yuuri of when he made his husband cry in Barcelona. Yuuri seems to always be the reason Viktor cries. He cringes at the memory. 

“Yakov is going to kill me.” Viktor says, plopping himself down right next to Yuuri. 

“I think we deserve a treat. Besides, we can always work off the calories later.” Yuuri winks, building up the confidence. He chants, _Viktor loves me_ , like a mantra in his head, willing the bubbling anxiety to go away. 

“Yuuri!” Viktor puts a hand to his heart and falls back onto the bed. 

“Yes, dear?” Yuuri bats his eyes, trying to maintain his breathing and push the negative thoughts out of his mind. _Viktor loves me_.

“You’re killing me.” Viktor sits up, bringing his face centimeters from Yuuri’s. He takes the pillow away from him, setting it somewhere off to the side. He stares into Yuuri’s eyes, reading him like an open book. Yuuri can see when Viktor recognizes the anxiety in his eyes. He sees the little furrow of Viktor’s brows, the light dim a little in his eyes as concern fills them. He aches to think he’s the cause of Viktor’s loss of happiness. 

“Well we can't have that, now can we? You need to win your fifth consecutive GPF.” Yuuri whispers, hoping to draw attention away from himself.

“What happens when you take that win from me?” Viktor raised an eyebrow, hooking his finger under Yuuri's chin. He tips Yuuri’s head up, brushing his lips against his.

“Then you can try again at Worlds.” _Viktor loves me._

“I look forward to seeing you on the ice, _lyubov moya_.”

“Just don’t make sex eyes at me again while I perform.” Yuuri places a quick peck to Viktor’s lips before turning away from him and opening the box of pizza. _Lyubov moya. He called me lyubov moya. He loves me._

“That was one time!” 

“Yes, and the internet literally broke, Viktor.”

“Well I can’t help it when you’re oozing sex on ice.”

“I don’t ooze sex. I hypnotize. You, specifically.” _That’s right. I am the only person in the world that knows Viktor’s love. I am the only one he looks at._

“Oh you’re right. It’s Chris that oozes.” Viktor chuckles. 

Yuuri hands Viktor a slice of pizza before getting one for himself. He closes his eyes as he bites down, relishing in the sensation of Viktor being so close. _Viktor loves me._

“Yuuri what the hell is on TV?” Viktor asks through a mouthful of pizza. 

Yuuri opens his eyes and promptly bursts out laughing. “It’s Sharknado,” Yuuri explains, wishing he had his phone so he could capture the mixture of horror and confusion on Viktor’s face. _That’s right. This is the man that I love, who loves me too._

“What?” 

“Sharknado. It’s a tornado. But it’s filled with sharks.”

“What the hell…”

“It’s an American classic.”

“Yuuri, that guy literally just got eaten by a shark in a house. An _inland house_.” Viktor stares ahead, pizza hanging limply in his hand. 

Yuuri reaches out to readjust the way Viktor holds his pizza so he can’t accidentally drop onto the bed. “Yes. And it’s a sharknado. Nothing makes sense. How have I never shown you this movie when we've been married for seven years?”

“Yuuri, you know I love you,” Viktor says slowly.

“Yes,” Yuuri nods. “I know.” _He just said he loves me! He loves me_.

“Then you know I say this in the gentlest way possible,” Viktor moves his gaze from the TV to Yuuri, “This is the dumbest movie I have _ever_ seen, and that’s saying something by the way. I am very glad you have never shown me this movie before.”

Yuuri nearly drops his pizza when he bursts out laughing. “Oh Viktor,” Yuuri wipes at his eyes, “that’s why it’s a classic. Because it’s so dumb you can’t unironically watch it.”

Viktor huffs, biting on his slice of pizza. “I swear Americans and their entertainment.”

“Oh darling, you don’t know the half of it. There’s five other Sharknado movies after this one” Yuuri pats his arm, still chuckling.

“There’s six Sharknado movies?”

“Yup.”

“Good fuck.”

They finish eating in relative silence. Viktor continues to make annoyed comments at the movie, pointing out all the logical flaws and bad CGI. Yuuri just laughs and goes along with whatever Viktor says, sometimes adding in his own comment while fighting his head. It really is a dumb movie, but it’s not the dumbest one he’s seen. Phichit has shown him movies like Spaghetti Man and Velocipastor. Sharknado is a thousand times better than those movies. He’ll have to show them to Viktor some time. Not Spaghetti Man though, that movie is boring as fuck and could be used as a torture method. 

When they’re done with the pizza, Viktor gets up to put the box on the desk and promptly comes back to bed. He lays down on his back and pulls Yuuri onto his chest, wrapping himself around the smaller man. Yuuri lets his head rest over Viktor’s heart and wraps his arm around his torso. 

“I love you, Yuuri.” Viktor whispers, running his hand up and down Yuuri’s back.

“I love you too” Yuuri replies, letting his eyes fall close.

“I know you’ve been really struggling with your anxiety these past couple of days, and I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you.”

“Vitya, you’ve done more for me than I could’ve asked. You stayed on the phone with me until I fell asleep even though Yakov kept yelling at you and Yura screamed at you for being lazy. They both told you you’d end up losing at the GPF because you stayed on the phone for me…plus you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

“I suppose you’re right. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Vitya.”

“After Worlds, let’s go to Hasetsu.” Viktor mumbles, staring up at the ceiling. Yuuri recognizes the need for a change in subject, and let’s Viktor go on. He needs the subject change too. They can talk later, when emotions aren’t so raw. “I miss it.”

“My family would like that.” Yuuri shifts, making himself more comfortable as he moves impossibly closer to his husband. Viktor’s heartbeat lulls Yuuri into a state of peace. His muscles relax and his breathing calms. His anxieties start easing up. Viktor’s voice and touch are like a balm to his thoughts.

“Would they like me?.” Viktor quietly asks. 

Yuuri rests his chin on Viktor’s chest, staring up at him, “What do you mean?”

“We’re married now, but they don’t know that anymore and any number of things can go wrong to make the wrong impression and I know that probably won’t happen but it’s still scary because I love them all so much and I don’t want to jeopardize anything and I really wish they knew who I was because I know Mari and Minako will be very skeptical of us at first and I’m terrified I’m going to do something bad or touch you the wrong way and then they’ll kick me out and I don’t know what to do Yuuri.” Viktor rambles.

“Vitya the first time you showed up to the onsen you were naked.”

“Technically I was only naked with you. I greeted your parents fully clothed.”

“My point is, however you meet them this time will be an improvement. You’re not coming out of the blue, you’ll be coming with me. You know them, they’ll love you. They’re your family as much as they are mine.”

“Even Mari and Minako?”

“Of course.”

Viktor smiles, so Yuuri takes that as his cue that the conversation is over. He lays his head back down and starts drawing lazy patterns on Viktor’s chest, fingers dipping under the robe to reach more skin. Yuuri sighs, perfectly content to stay like this forever. Eventually he’ll have to come out of their bubble, but until then, he’ll gladly ignore the outside world.

“Kiss me?” He hears Viktor ask in a breath of a whisper.

Yuuri sits up and takes Viktor’s face in his hands. They both close their eyes as Yuuri brings his lips to Viktor’s. Chapped lips meet soft ones, quickly falling into a slow rhythm. It is a bit awkward. They’re still not entirely used to their younger bodies and moving their lips in a way to fit against the other’s, but they figure it out eventually.

Yuuri climbs over Viktor, not breaking the kiss as he straddles his hips. Viktor’s hands come to his hips and thighs, leaving lingering touches wherever his hands go. Yuuri’s hands card through Viktor’s hair, getting lost in silver strands. 

Yuuri pulls away, much to Viktor’s dismay, “Yuuuuri~” He whines, pouting. 

“I have to pee.” He laughs, kissing the tip of Viktor’s nose and attempting to get up.

“Must you go now?” Viktor doesn’t let Yuuri go.

“Yes, but when I get back, we can get to reacquainting ourselves with these bodies.” Yuuri winks, feeling a second burst of confidence shoot through him.

Viktor cups his cheeks, mouth hanging open “You excite me.”

“Good.” Yuuri manages to get up and sways his hips as he walks into the bathroom.

As he’s washing his hands, he hears Viktor cackle and call out “Hey, Yuuri?”

“Yes?” Yuuri answers, drying his hands on a towel.

“Do you want me to ‘sheath my cock in your ass and pound into you until you’re no longer able to do anything but scream and moan my name’?” 

“What?” Yuuri splutters, sprinting out of the bathroom to be greeted with the sight of his phone in Viktor’s hands.

“Or would you rather I ‘thrust my hips slowly, murmuring your name as I make love to you’?” Viktor’s grinning, scrolling through the content on Yuuri’s phone.

The realization slaps Yuuri in the face like a fish trying to escape back to sea. He forgot he had an active tumblr account while in college. “VIKTOR!” He bolts to the bed, grabbing at air as he tries to get his phone back.

Viktor jumps up so he stands on the bed, holding the phone high above his head. “This story,” Viktor says, completely serious, “you wrote it, no?”

“VIKTOR!” Yuuri’s face is _red_ with embarrassment. He could beat a tomato in a color competition.

“Do you not want me to and I quote, ‘grab your cock and pump my hand to the rhythm I pound you with?”

Yuuri climbs Viktor’s body and manages to pull him back down to the bed, but he still can’t get to his phone. He covers Viktor’s mouth with his hand in an attempt to keep him from talking, but Viktor licks his palm. Yuuri, flustered by Viktor finding his tumblr fanfiction and not expecting such a trick (though really, he should’ve known better. This is Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov we’re talking about here), jumps in the air and pulls his hand away like he’s been burnt.

Viktor’s dying of laughter, clutching at his stomach with one hand and wiping away tears with the other. He hands Yuuri back his phone, trying to say something but every time he opens his mouth he starts giggling.

Yuuri looks down at his phone and is horrified to see Viktor found more than just his fanfiction. He found his rant posts about how gorgeous his ass is, and managed to scroll pretty far into his account in the short time Yuuri was in the bathroom. Yuuri falls onto his back, staring numbly at the ceiling as he processes the situation. 

Viktor climbs on top of him, forearms resting on each side of his head. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a fan account about me?” he asks, pouting, “I thought I knew about all your fan years.”

“I was inactive when we met! And I deleted it before we even got married!” Yuuri shrieks, covering his face with his hands. He can’t look Viktor in the eye right now.

“Yuuuuuuuuri,”

“Oh my gosh this is so embarrassing.” he mumbles, shrinking in on himself. Though it’s hard to do when Viktor’s body is pressing against his.

Viktor chuckles and gently pries Yuuri’s hands away from his face “It’s cute. I love seeing the things you’ve said about me before we met. We can even do everything you’ve written about!”

“VIKTOR!” Yuuri fights Viktor’s hold on his wrists, trying to hide behind his hands again. Much to his dismay, Viktor doesn’t let him.

His husband tilts his head back and laughs, “What? Didn’t you write about going on a cute ice cream shop date in the beginning?”

“Maybe….”

“And going to a small restaurant where the press can’t find us after a competition and being overall saps for each other?”

“Vitya…” Viktor’s smile softens at Yuuri’s use of the nickname. 

“Let's make it a reality?” He sounds hopeful.

“Okay.” Yuuri relents, knowing he’ll have to accept this sooner or later. 

“After the short programs in Sochi?”

“As long as Celestino will let me.”

“Oh he’ll let you. I’ll make sure of that.”

“You’re not mad or disgusted?” Yuuri asks, hesitant. He’s not sure he wants to know.

“About what?”

“About the fan account?”

“Why would I be? My husband is expressing his love for me for all the world to see!”

“But I wrote about having sex with you?” 

“Yuuri,” Viktor starts, placing a kiss on his forehead, “you have sex with me all the time. We were literally starting to get in the mood before you went to the bathroom. I dare say what you wrote is quite mild.”

“Oh my gosh. I never thought I’d be having this conversation with you.”

“Don’t delete it.”

“What?”

“Don’t delete it,” Viktor repeats, smiling, “I like it. Oh! I can even make an account for you!”

“Please don’t.” 

“But Yuuuuuri, I want the world to know how much I love you too!”

“Trust me Vitya, the world knows.”

Viktor pouts, “Fine. I’ll listen.”

“Thank you.” Yuuri leans up and gives him a quick peck.

“Anything for you, _Solnyshko_.” Viktor murmurs, leaning down to kiss him again.

They get interrupted by Yuuri’s cell phone ringing (on what Viktor considers the loudest possible setting. It scared the shit out of him), _The King and the Skater_ theme song filling the room.

“Oh fuck.” Yuuri pushes Viktor off him and grabs his phone in a haste, hurrying to silence his phone. Except, the fates have a different idea, as he accidentally answers the call. He slams the device against his ear and tries his best to sound cheerful, “Hey Phichit!”

“Yuuri why am I looking at your ear?” Phichit asks, chuckling.

“Oh! Sorry I didn’t realize you were FaceTiming me.” Yuuri pulls his phone away from his ear, and puts on a smile. He uses his feet to push his husband off the bed, so Phichit doesn’t see him. He lands with a hard thump and a quiet “oof.” Makkachin yips and jumps off the bed to comfort her human.

“What was that?” Phichit frowns.

“What was what?” Yuuri asks innocently, becoming hyper aware he’s shirtless.

“That thump.” Phichit elaborates, studying Yuuri.

“I didn’t hear a thump.”

“Hmm...Yuuri are you getting laid right now?”

“What?” Yuuri feels his face heat up, and he vehemently tries to deny Phichit’s words by shaking his head.

“Oh my gosh you are!” Phichit squeals, “I’m so proud of you Yuuri! You’re finally getting over your Viktor obsession!”

Yuuri hears said man try to muffle his laughter. This whole situation has caused his soul to leave his body. “Phichit it’s not what you’re thinking!” He practically yells.

“Yuuri, you’re shirtless and in a hotel room. I’d be surprised if you still had pants on.”

“Phichit, I still have pants on because I am _not_ getting laid. Did you need something?”

“Oh I was just calling to see why you weren’t home yet.”

“I told you I was staying out!”

“I forgot. Anyways don’t let me keep you! Remember to use lots of lube and protection! Bye Yuuri!” Phichit hangs up, leaving Yuuri to stare at his black phone screen. 

Yuuri gets two seconds of silence before Viktor starts laughing his ass off. Makkachin barks with excitement, tail wagging and jumping on Viktor as he sits up. Viktor starts coughing from how hard he’s cackling. Yuuri stares at him with a blank expression, waiting for his husband to calm down from his high.

It takes a few minutes, but Viktor eventually calms down enough to start talking. “ _You’re finally getting over your Viktor obsession_ huh?” He cackles.

Yuuri throws a pillow at him. Viktor dodges it. “Shut up.” Yuuri tries to sound stern, but he sounds pathetic even to his own ears. 

“Wait till Phichit finds out you never get over your _Viktor obsession_!”

“You’re pushing it, Nikiforov.” Yuuri warns.

“Actually it’s Katsuki-Nikiforov now.”

“Sorry. You’re pushing it, _Katsuki-Nikiforov_.”

“Technically, you’re the one pushing. You pushed me off the bed Yuuri! I hit my elbow!” Viktor pouts.

Yuuri sighs, “Let me see your elbow.” Viktor pulls his arm out of his robe sleeve and puts his elbow out for Yuuri to see. “It doesn’t look bruised.” He mumbles, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the joint.

Viktor beams, “Now it definitely won’t bruise!”

Yuuri chuckles, reaching out to push Viktor’s fringe out of his face. “Now, where were we?”

Viktor smirks, crawling over Yuuri and pushing him down onto the bed. Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor’s neck, staring into blue eyes. “What was all that about not getting laid?”

“There is a difference between getting laid, and making love with your husband.”

“Hmm...husband. I like the sound of that.” Viktor closes the distance between their lips, and kisses him softly. Yuuri’s eyes close, relishing the feel of Viktor’s lips on his.

A phone starts vibrating, but Viktor ignores it in favor of deepening his kiss with Yuuri. Yuuri doesn’t even hear the phone going off. Phichit’s phone call, on top of the tumblr debacle, traumatized him enough that he has completely blocked phones out for the night. 

The vibrating doesn’t stop though, and Viktor’s forced to put a pause to kissing Yuuri like his life depends on it. “Holy shit.” He mumbles, sitting up, “How many times are we going to get cockblocked?” He gets up in search of his phone and finds it in his bag. He sees it’s Yurio calling, and sighs. “What?” He growls, answering the phone.

“Where the fuck are you?” Yurio barks, “You haven’t showed up for practice and you didn’t answer the door when I went to your apartment.”

“Did Yakov not tell you? I’m taking a vacation.”

“The fuck? What the hell are you doing taking a vacation right now?” Yurio snaps.

Viktor looks over to where Yuuri is sitting up, looking as annoyed as he feels. “I’m getting my inspiration back.” He states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“The fuck does that mean?” 

“It means Yuri, that I am on vacation.”

“Whatever. It’ll be great watching you lose because you slacked off. Yakov is pissed by the way.” Yurio snarls, hanging up. 

Viktor turns his phone off and drops it back in his bag. He does the same with Yuuri’s phone, then flops onto the bed. “Fourth time’s the charm?”

“Fourth time? There’s only been two phone calls. Wouldn’t that make this the third?” Yuuri says confused, scooting over to Viktor.

“Yes, but the first time you went to the bathroom.”

“Oh yeah. Well there’s nothing stopping us now.” Yuuri wiggles his eyebrows.

Viktor sits up, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. “Well then Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov, which will it be? Am I the Pakhan of the Bratva? Or do I _pound into you until you’re no longer able to do anything but scream and moan my name_?”

“Neither. You’re just Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov.” Yuuri answers. 

Viktor pounces, heart soaring at his husband’s words and eager to finally get properly reacquainted with their bodies.

* * *

_”Hey Yuuri?’ Viktor mumbles, fingers playing with the hem of Yuuri’s shirt._

_“Yeah?” Yuuri turns around so he faces Viktor. Their chests press together, and Viktor can see a slight red dusting Yuuri’s cheeks._

_“I love you.”_

_“I love you, too.” Yuuri leaves a soft kiss on Viktor’s lips. He chases after the kiss, unwilling to let go of Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri smiles, hands going to Viktor’s hair and returning the kiss. Viktor sighs happily, hand slipping under Yuuri’s shirt to touch the soft skin on his back._

_Yuuri cards his hand through Viktor’s hair, letting strands fall through his fingers. He pushes his back into Viktor’s hand, chasing after the warmth he radiates. Yuuri slowly pulls back, resting his forehead against Viktor’s, “We’re supposed to be watching the movie.” he whispers._

_“I think I like kissing my husband more than watching Iron Man.” Viktor replies, giggles bubbling up from his chest._

_“Oh? I thought you liked Iron Man though.” Yuuri nuzzles his nose against Viktor’s._

_“Iron Man has nothing on Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov.”_

_“You’re a dork.”_

_“Yes, but I’m your dork.” Viktor draws tiny patterns on the small of his husband’s back. He’s perfectly content to stay on the slightly too small couch forever if it meant he could keep Yuuri in his arms._

_“Yes, you are.” Yuuri kisses him again._

* * *

_Yuuri stares down at his body on an operating table. Doctors surround the table, with one in particular actually operating on him. That must be the surgeon, he thinks. He wonders how he made it to surgery. He thought for sure he’d be dead by now._

_”This patient has been stabilized. How’s the man that came with him?” the surgeon asks._

_“He’s still in surgery. When I last called them they were having trouble stabilizing his vitals. Do they have family?” a nurse answers._

_“Yes. They’re out in the waiting area. Apparently the two are married and are retired figure skaters. Bystanders were able to identify them for us.” Another nurse pipes up from the side. Yuuri hadn’t seen her earlier._

_“I thought their names looked familiar...at least they’re retired. They probably won’t be able to skate again. Stitch him up. I’ll go talk to the family.” the surgeon steps away from his body._

_Yuuri follows him out of the operating room, hoping to find where they’re operating on Viktor. He’s disappointed when the surgeon doesn’t lead him anywhere near his husband. He is happy, however, to see Yurio, Mila, Georgi, and even Yakov out in the waiting room. They all stand in attention at the sight of the doctor._

_“How are they?” Yurio asks._

_“Mr. Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov is stable. He’s lost a lot of blood and has a fractured skull as well as some other broken bones in his back, arms, and legs. We’re unsure when, or if, he will wake up, though his prospects are looking better. We’ll have to monitor him closely. There’s a chance he’ll be paralyzed from the waist down, but we won’t know until he wakes.” Mila covers her mouth with her hand and Yakov puts a hand on Yurio’s shoulder._

_“What about Viktor?” Yakov asks._

_“I believe he is still in surgery. When they were hit, he landed against the curb and sustained harsher injuries. He suffered a seizure on the way to the hospital, and the nurses said they’re not sure what motor skills he will have when he wakes up. That is, if he makes it out of surgery and is able to wake up. It’s too early to tell.”_

* * *

Yuuri wakes up gasping, clutching at the sheets around him. He sits up, bringing his knees to his chest and putting his head in his hands, trying to take deep breaths. Tears spill from his eyes, and he’s unable to get what the doctor said about them out of his head. _Trouble stabilizing his vitals. Won't be able to skate. Sustained harsher injuries. Suffered a seizure._. Is Viktor, in their world, dying? Was Yuuri unable to protect his husband?

A sob tore its way out of his throat before he could stop himself. He didn’t want to be forced back into that world only to have Viktor gone. He couldn’t bear for that to happen. If he woke up and Viktor wasn’t there-

Another sob wracked his body, his thoughts spiraling out of control. What if he’s alive and Viktor being with him is just a figment of his imagination? What if Viktor’s already dead? What if he is dead and Viktor is alive? Maybe they’re both dead. He could deal with them both being dead. But the doctor said Viktor wasn’t entirely stable. _Viktor_ , who he loves with his entire being. _Viktor_ , who has always been by his side. _Viktor_ , who he will gladly give his life for. Viktor is dying, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Yuuri screams into his knees, a heartbreaking sound that echoes in the room.

He jumps when he feels a hand touch his back. “Yuuri?” Viktor’s voice is muddled in sleep and panic, “Baby what’s wrong?”

Yuuri cries harder, unable to communicate anything going through his head. His thoughts are spinning around him, manifesting in crude ways. Images from the first nightmare flash behind his eyes, reminding him of the sight of Viktor’s body on the ground. He sees their bodies getting loaded into ambulances. His body aches with ghostly pains, slowly growing worse and worse. He can’t move.

Strong arms wrap around him, pulling him into his husband’s body. “Shh...it’s okay,” Viktor whispers, kissing the top of his head, “I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

Yuuri cries on Viktor’s shoulder, briefly noting that because his husband is not wearing a shirt, his tears and snot get all over his shoulder. He should get a tissue or something to wipe it off. He tries to pull away, but Viktor keeps him in his arms, pulls him into his lap, and murmurs “Don’t worry about it, baby.” Sometimes Yuuri swears Viktor can read his mind.

Viktor’s hand finds itself in Yuuri’s hair, gently running through the black strands. His other hand sits on Yuuri’s lower back, keeping him steady. He whispers reassurances and sweet nothings, doing what he knows will calm Yuuri down after a nightmare. 

When Yuuri does calm down, it’s only after he’s cried enough to give himself a migraine. He’s left a sniffling mess, covered in snot and tears. He wraps his arms around Viktor, clutching at his back, nails digging into skin. He listens to Viktor’s heartbeat, and tries his best to imitate his breathing. It’s an exercise Viktor started having Yuuri follow years ago, and it’s tremendously helped him get a hold of himself. Now, he clings to it like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

“Vitya?” Yuuri asks weakly.

“Yes, _baby_?”

“How are you feeling?”

Viktor lets out a breathy laugh, “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

Yuuri shakes his head, “Please just answer.”

“I feel fine. What happened, my love?”

“In my dream...the doctors said they were having trouble keeping you stabilized. That you had a seizure. That they weren’t sure if you’d-” Yuuri chokes on his words, unable to get the last bits out of his throat.

“Oh Yuuri…” Viktor pulls him closer and kisses the top of his head, “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I think when I sleep I go back to our real lives…Viktor I-”

“Shh…” Viktor soothes, “Yuuri, no matter what happens, I will _never_ leave you alone.”

“But-”

“No.” Viktor’s voice is firm. He sighs and continues speaking, softer this time, “Yuuri, _lyubov moya_ , I promise that I am not going to die. I don’t know what’s going on, but I swear to you that I am fighting to be next to you. _I love you_ , and I will do everything to stay close to you.”

Yuuri nods, unable to speak. He just pulls Viktor down for a kiss. It’s sloppy and nasty. Yuuri can taste his tears, but Viktor doesn’t seem to notice, or mind. Viktor has never minded the nasty side of him, Yuuri thinks. He has always loved Yuuri to the fullest. Something in Yuuri flips like a switch, and he knows that Viktor will be okay. He knows his anxieties were over nothing. He knows that, despite his dreams, Viktor will push through. 

Viktor pulls away first, but he doesn’t stop kissing Yuuri. He kisses his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, anywhere his lips can touch. Yuuri wonders if there’s a part of his body where Viktor’s lips haven’t touched, but as he thinks about it, he can feel his husband’s lips on every inch of his body, and realizes that every part of him has been loved. 

“Do you remember,” Viktor starts, punctuating his words with a kiss, “when we first moved in together? In St. Petersburg?”

Yuuri nods dumbly, not wanting to break the spell Viktor’s words cast on him.

Viktor holds Yuuri’s face in his hands and stares into his eyes, “I told you that you never had to go anywhere alone, because you still weren’t fluent in Russian, and you didn’t know the area. I’m making that same promise to you now. If you need me to stay here, I will. I’ll just do my training at your rink, and I can take over hotel costs if you’d prefer us to stay a secret. If you don’t need me to stay here, and I go back to Russia until we meet again, but you call me and tell me you need me, I will book the next flight out to wherever you are. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing.”

“I can’t keep you from the world. Not now. You have a lot of important things to be doing.” Yuuri mumbles, looking down.

“Yes, you absolutely can keep me from the world. You are the most important part of my life. _You’re my husband._ Everything else pales in comparison to you.”

“Vitya…”

“I think…” Viktor pauses, trying to sort his thoughts, “I think I’ll take a gap year again. So I can coach you. I’m not sure if what we do here affects the timeline, and I’d really rather not risk it. What do you think?”

“I think you’re crazy.” Yuuri deadpans, “I know where you’re coming from, but we might not be able to get back on the ice again if we ever go back to our normal lives. We should take advantage of our younger bodies now, while we can freely move.”

“What about coaching you?”

“You can just coach me in St. Petersburg like before. Yakov won’t be mad you left him during the divorce too.”

“Ouch. But that would work, I think. The timeline though? Would it be affected?”

“No, I don’t think anything we do will change anything.”

Viktor nods, taking Yuuri’s words into consideration. He bites at his lower lip, looking off to the side as he’s thinking.

“Vitya?” Yuuri breaks him out of his reverie, “Thank you.”

“What for?” He asks, pressing his forehead against Yuuri’s.

“For grounding me. I know I say that a lot, but I mean it. Thank you, and I love you.”

“I love you too. Let’s go back to bed?”

Yuuri nods, and moves to lie down. Viktor follows and allows Yuuri to curl up against him. Their bodies entwine like two pieces of a puzzle. “Goodnight, my love.” Viktor whispers.

“Goodnight, Vitya.” Yuuri mumbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually really happy with how this chapter turned out. The first draft sucked, but now it's my favorite chapter I've ever written lol. From the meeting, to the tears, to sharknado, to fanfic being discovered (that'll come into play more in later chapters), to the aftermath of Phichit's phonecall, to finding more about what's happened to them. It's been so much fun to write. It's also probably the longest single chapter I have ever written so far. I hope you all enjoy it! I wasn't planning on posting this chapter until I finished with ch5 but it's my birthday today so I thought I'd give you guys a little treat. Also, check out my[ tumblr](https://mx-on-ice.tumblr.com)! I post some snippets/spoilers/plans I have for the fic on there a lot! Please let me know if there's anything y'all would like to see in this fic! Thank you all so much for reading!


	5. Miss You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri gets drunk and Phichit has had it with his Viktor rants. Viktor, on the other hand, can't get enough.

Yuuri misses Viktor. He’s been trying so hard to stay where he’s at and not jeopardize anything by flying out to where he is. His expenses are already low, and sure he wouldn’t have to worry about where to stay, but plane tickets cost far too much for him to be able to afford with little money.Regardless, he’s itching to be in touching distance of his husband, and he’s about to jump out of his skin if the GPF doesn’t come sooner.

Tonight, as he watches Viktor and all their friends skate at the NHK Trophy, Yuuri needs some form of release. The ache in his chest has become a distressing pressure begging for release. FaceTiming and near endless texting with Viktor just isn’t enough; it’ll never be enough. Yuuri craves physical closeness. He’s tried hugging Phichit, Celestino, waving to that one really nice girl, but nothing is the same. Nothing satisfies the burn under his skin like his husband’s touch. So tonight, Yuuri decides to let go of his inhibitions and drink. 

“Yuuri, I know you’re stressed about being in the GPF, but you really should stop drinking.” Phichit says, trying to take the can of beer out of Yuuri’s hands.

“Nooooooo~” Yuuri slurs, gripping the can to his chest.

“Yuuri if you don’t stop now you won’t be in shape for the competition!”

“It’s fiiiiiiine.”

“Viktor won’t be impressed with your skating.” Phichit knows it’s a low blow, but it’s the last card he can play. Yuuri really needs to stop and find a healthier way to let his frustrations out.

“Viktor loves me regardless.” Yuuri sighs at the TV, watching Viktor go into a combination spin. “He’s seen me in the off season and post retirement, he doesn’t care.”

“Yuuri you’ve never even met the man! And what’s this about retirement?”

“Yes, I have. We’re married!” Yuuri ignores the retirement question. He doesn’t really want to think about that right now. It means remembering their situation, and that’s exactly what he’s trying to take his mind off of.

“Yuuri. Come on let’s get you to bed.”

“No! I have to see Viktor get the gold!”

“Fine, but as soon as he steps off that podium you’re going to bed, okay?”

“Fine.”

Yuuri downs the last of the beer and reaches for another can, only to end up grabbing a water bottle. He scowls at the thing. 

“Drink.” Phichit orders, opening the bottle for Yuuri. “Or I will post a picture of you and all your Viktor paraphernalia.”

“You wouldn’t.” Yuuri stares wide eyed.

“Wanna bet?”

Yuuri chugs the water down, crushing the bottle when he finishes. He stares at the TV screen, watching Viktor step back onto the ice for the medal ceremony. Did he miss the last leg of his performance? Dammit. “Viktor doesn’t look happy.”

“What do you mean? He looks happy to me?” Phichit asks, confused.

“No, that's his media smile. He’s not happy.” Yuuri frowns, leaning forward. Seeing Viktor with that cursed smile on his face sobers him up a little. “You can see it in his big, beautiful, blue eyes. I love his eyes. I hate seeing his eyes so sad. He’s getting a gold medal but he’s so lonely. It’s my fault. I should be in St. Petersburg with him. Phichit I want to make that sadness go away. Where’s my phone?”

Yuuri gets up and starts looking around for his phone, finding it stuck between the couch cushions. Phichit rolls his eyes and walks away, deciding he’s not going to deal with a Yuuri rant. He’ll end up seeing it on Tumblr anyways, he’s sure. 

Yuuri looks at the TV and frowns when he realizes Viktor’s in a press conference now. He can’t call while he’s on TV! That’s rude! He listens to Viktor, JJ, and Michele answer questions the press throws at them. Both JJ and Michele look surprised as Viktor directs the attention to them rather than hog the media’s attention. He supposes that’s fair. They’re not friends yet, and Viktor used to like having the attention on himself. Times have changed for them though, and Viktor is in no mood to answer questions about his plans for next year. 

Yuuri stands and twirls around as a fit of laughter bubbles through him. He’s so happy to see his friends skating on the ice again; even happier to see Viktor skating competitively again, even if he’s not so happy right now. It’s refreshing seeing them all together again. 

As soon as the press conference ends, and it switches to reporters talking about the GPF, Yuuri calls Viktor. He picks up after a couple rings. “VITYAAAAAAA” Yuuri slurs, holding the phone to his ear.

“Darling,” Viktor laughs, “What are you calling for? It’s late isn’t it?”

“You won! But you looked sad.” Yuuri frowns, “I want to make you not sad.”

“Thank you, zolotse. You should get to sleep though.”

“Noooooooo I wanna talk to you!”

“My love, are you drunk?”

“Nooooo~”

“I think you are.”

“I just had a little~”

“Mhmm.”

“Maybe a little? I’on’ know. I missed you so I took it out on some beer.”

“Baby all you had to do was call me.”

“It’s not the saaaaaame!” Yuuri whines, tears building in his eyes, “I don’t get to touch you on the phone.”

“I know, you’re right.” Viktor sighs.

“Vitya I love you~” Yuuri sings, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

“I love you too solnyshko.”

“Have I told you how much I love Viktor Nikiforov?”

“You’ve mentioned it.”

“His eyes are so beautiful. I get lost in them all the time. Did you know he’s got specks of green in his very blue eyes?”

“Does he?”

“Yesss, and it’s beautiful. When he eats something he likes his eyes get all wide and sparkly and he yells out ‘vkusno’ and iss beautiful. Also his thighs, have you seeeen his thighs?”

“What are his thighs like?”

“He’s got really thick skater thighs. They’re thighs that scream _I’m figure skating legend Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov._ ”

“You’ve really thought about his thighs haven’t you?”

“Ohhh yes. I’d happily let him sit on my face and suffocate me.”

“I won’t suffocate you, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Did you see his skating tonight? He did a wonderful job. Definitely deserved the gold medal. He won’t get gold during the GPF though…”

“Won’t he?”

“No. I think he’ll lose that longing touch that goes into his performance and then he’ll lose points because he’s a dork and he won’t be able to keep that loving smile of his off his face for more than two seconds.”

“Wanna bet?”

“No. I don’t want him to hide that smile. I love that smile. He always gives me that smile and I melt every time. Plus, it means I’ll win the bet.”

“You must really love this Viktor guy huh?”

“I do. I really do. Viktor is just so-” 

“OH MY GOSH YUURI NOT AGAIN!” Phichit exclaims, interrupting Yuuri’s rant. 

“HEY PHICHIT GIVE ME MY PHONE BACK!”

“Hi, I’m really sorry you’ve had to deal with Yuuri. I leave him alone for ten minutes and all of a sudden he’s crying about how perfect Viktor Nikiforov is. He hasn’t bothered you at all, has he?” Phichit talks into the phone, pushing against Yuuri’s forehead to keep him back. He’s tortured this poor guy enough as it is.

“Oh no. I find it quite adorable.” the man on the other end of the call replies, chuckling.

“He hasn’t gone off on Viktor Nikiforov for too long has he?”

“Not nearly long enough. I think he needs to get it out of his system.”

“No we shouldn’t enable his ranting. It’s been a cockblocker for both him and me since forever ago.”

The guy on the other end of the line cackles, “Has it?”

“Yes. Speaking of...you don’t happen to be the person Yuuri spent a few days with a few weeks ago, would you?”

“What if I am?”

“Oh my gosh.”

“Let me talk to Viktor! Phiichit!!!!!!!! I have to tell him I love him”

“Oh it’s really bad tonight. I am so so sorry he called you. Even more sorry he thinks you're his idol. I thought he’d gotten over this.”

“It’s okay. Really.”

“VIKTOR I LOVE YOU!”

The other man just laughs at Yuuri’s antics, and Phichit says a brief ‘thank you’ to the heavens above for giving Yuuri someone who doesn’t mind his drunk ranting. Especially someone who doesn’t mind it’s not about them. 

“Okay I gotta get him to bed.” he tells the stranger.

“Take care of him for me.” He says somberly. 

“Uhhh sure yeah”

“Thank you.”

Phichit hangs the phone up, and drags Yuuri to his room by the front of his shirt (only briefly realizing he’s never seen this shirt before. He’ll have to ask about it in the morning). He pulls the blankets back on his bed and pushes Yuuri down. Yuuri stares up at him with puppy eyes, but Phichit doesn’t budge. He will not give Yuuri his phone back lest he embarrass himself any further. “Go to sleep, Yuuri.”

“But I need to say goodnight to Viktor.” Yuuri pouts, reaching his hands out for his phone.

“You’ve already told him that.” Phichit fibs, coaxing Yuuri to lie down.

“I did?” 

“You did.”

“Oh okay. Goodnight then, Phichit.”

“Goodnight Yuuri.”

As Phichit leaves Yuuri’s room, he feels Yuuri’s phone vibrate in his pocket. Curious (and also making sure it’s not something important from Celestino or a classmate), he takes the phone out and looks at the recent notifications. 

_From Vitya: Make sure you drink a lot of water when you wake up. Eat some pickles too. Or umeboshi_

_From Vitya: Don’t overwork yourself during practice either_

_From Vitya: I will fight Celestino if he doesn’t let you take it easy_

_From Vitya: Sleep well, zolotse. I love you_

“What the fuck?” Phichit mumbles, turning to look back at Yuuri’s door. Did Yuuri have a secret lover? How long has this relationship been going on? Phichit thinks back to when things changed with Yuuri, and realizes Yuuri has only been acting strange for a little over a month. He should have an intervention with Yuuri. 

Spending three days with someone you barely know before a major competition, saying ‘I love you’ after only a month of being together, _not telling your best friend about them_ , are all signs that something troublesome might be happening. Knowing Yuuri though, his nerves are too high strung to talk to him about it before the GPF. Afterwards, when he gets back, Phichit decides, is when he’ll talk to Yuuri. For now, he gets to making a very detailed powerpoint on healthy relationships.

* * *

_”I missed you.” Viktor whispers. It’s late. The curtains don’t allow for any moonlight to come into the room, and Makkachin is sound asleep at the foot of the bed._

_Yuuri stirs, his brain taking a moment to process and register Viktor is speaking. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Viktor continues on._

_“It’s been hell without you. Our apartment...it’s empty, devoid of life. I can’t stand it.” Viktor’s arms around Yuuri tighten ever so slightly. “There’s nothing that tells me you’re here. This time in my life-it’s lonely. I hate being back here. Everyone gets weirded out when I try to be friendly with them. To them I’m still the untouchable Viktor Nikiforov, skating legend. I’m not just_ Viktor _. Everything feels so empty.”_

_Viktor pauses, and Yuuri takes this time to sit up. He leans on his elbow while his other hand reaches out to cup Viktor’s cheek. He can barely see him in the dark, but he knows Viktor has tears in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything. Viktor needs him to listen, and so he will listen._

_“I missed out on so many life experiences. I didn’t get to go to college. I’ve never actually had a job besides skating. My parents never let me go out with friends, so by the time I caught a break and could spend time with them, I had no one.”_

_Yuuri wipes Viktor’s tears with the pads of his thumbs. He knows this already. He knows Viktor stopped talking to his parents when he turned nineteen, that they’re the ones who cut him off and not the other way around. That Yakov has been the only fatherly figure he’s ever had. Even that’s a touchy subject, because Yakov has never really seen Viktor the same way he sees him. Yakov can be gentle, in a rare moment of weakness, but he’s still just a coach, not a father. Yuuri knows this. But Viktor needs to get this out of his system, and so Yuuri still doesn’t speak. He gives his silent support, rubbing soothing circles along his husband's cheeks._

_“I still remember thinking, when we got married, ‘wow, all these people are here for me, for us, for our love.’ And I remember thinking it all was a dream, because even with a million fans sending their support, it never felt like I was loved. And then you took my hand and kissed me, and I realized,_ this is real _. That you and I, we’re forever, and apparently we transcend time and all things physically possible. Being here, it’s really messing with me because there’s no evidence of_ us _. I know you’re here, but it’s like our history has been erased, and I hate it.”_

_Yuuri sucks in a breath, carding his fingers through Viktor’s hair. He’s not sure what to say, so he stalls for time by pressing kisses to Viktor’s face. He knows what he wants to say, but as he kisses Viktor’s eyelids, he’s struck with the inability to get the words out._

_He moves so that he straddles his husband and leaves a trail of soft kisses along his jaw. Viktor’s hands come to rest on his hips, grounding them both to the present. Yuuri places a gentle kiss on Viktor’s lips, and rests his forehead against his. “Hey,” Yuuri whispers, tenderly massaging Viktor’s shoulders, “I’ve got you. We’ll build a life here too.”_

_Viktor’s body jerks as sob wracks through him, and he pulls Yuuri down to his chest. The only distance between them being the few centimeters keeping their lips apart. Yuuri understands why Viktor’s silent tears become quiet sobs. It’s the kind of tears you only know when you’ve lived a life of loneliness, devoid of the human interactions you crave. And Yuuri has given Viktor the love and reassurance he craves. Yuuri fills the void inside Viktor’s chest, and Yuuri knows how overwhelming that can be at times. He’s felt it himself often enough._

_“Why does everyone leave me?” Viktor asks, and the cracks in his voice alone are enough to break Yuuri._

_“Oh Vitya…” Yuuri’s eyes sting with his own tears, “Everyone who’s left you never deserved you. Look at me, my love,” Viktor hiccups and peels his eyes open, staring up into Yuuri’s eyes, “I’m here for you, yeah? And I’m never going to leave you. Seven years ago, I promised to stay by your side, and I’d rather die than break my vows to you.”_

_Viktor moves a hand to the back of Yuuri’s neck, and pulls him those few centimeters down. Their lips meet, and Yuuri melts into Viktor. Lips glide together, each slide a gentle caress, All Yuuri can think about is_ Viktor _. Touching him, telling him how much he loves him, sharing his life with him, and giving himself fully unto his husband. Tongues meet, and Yuuri moans, clutching at Viktor’s shoulders. Viktor’s arms wrap around Yuuri, securing him in his hold._

_Yuuri’s pleasantly surprised when his husband flips them. His back hits the mattress, and Viktor’s body cages him in, protective and loving. Viktor’s protecting him, and Yuuri has never felt safer than in his husband’s arms. He knows why Viktor’s doing this. He knows it comes from not wanting to lose him. Yuuri feels the same way, but for tonight, he’ll let Viktor take the lead. This isn’t about what he wants, it’s about what his husband wants._

_Yuuri pulls back first, desperately needing to catch his breath. Viktor pants above him, pampering him in sweet kisses. Yuuri sighs as Viktor presses his lips against his forehead, content to revel in his love. Yuuri remembers a question he had for his husband, so he takes this pause to ask it. “Vitya, how did you find my fanfiction yesterday?”_

_“What?” Viktor chuckles, breathless._

_“Yesterday, when I was in the bathroom, how did you find my fanfiction about you?” Yuuri repeats his question._

_“Oh. Your phone lit up with a notification, and I saw my name so I got curious. Over a thousand people agree with your observation about how spread eagles do wonders for showing off my ass by the way.” Viktor answers, kissing him again._

_“Oh my gosh you saw that post.” Yuuri mumbles, tilting his chin up to get a better angle._

_“Mmm…” Viktor slides his tongue into Yuuri’s mouth, and just like that the conversation is over. Yuuri couldn’t remember the questions he had anyways, not after Viktor starts to leave hot, open mouthed kisses down his body._

* * *

Yuuri wakes up, rolling over and expecting to meet the warmth of Viktor’s body. Instead, he’s met with the ground, because he rolled off his tiny twin sized mattress. He groans and sits up, rubbing his back. That didn’t go according to plan. 

It’s been a month since Viktor left for St. Petersburg, and Yuuri still isn’t used to sleeping alone. He hates it. With a burning passion. He changed his plane ticket to Sochi to arrive a day earlier because he can’t wait any longer. Viktor’s done the same, and he’s pretty sure the plan for once they’re in Sochi is to give their coaches a heart attack because one will find their student missing, and the other will find them in bed together (probably naked too).

Yuuri fumbles around, searching for his phone. He frowns when he can only find his glasses. That’s not right. He should have his phone? A slight throb starts in the back of his head, forcing him to pause and remember how he got quite drunk last night (earlier this morning? He’s really not sure if it’s today, yesterday or tomorrow. His sense of time has been fucked up). Phichit probably has his phone then...damn.

Yuuri stands, wobbling a little as he tries to find his footing through the mess of blankets and headache. He refuses to turn on any lights, knowing it’d make what will sure be a bad hangover worse. He stumbles out of his room, walking the short distance to Phichit’s room. 

Quietly, he opens the door and gets greeted with the squeaking of hamsters. Yuuri tries to walk in without waking phichit, but he trips on the jeans his best friend left on the floor and falls hard. He may be graceful on the ice, but tonight he can barely stand on his own two feet. He groans, and stands up to see Phichit sitting up.

“Yuuri? What are you doing?” He asks, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“I’m uhh...I’m looking for my phone.” Yuuri answers, wiping dust off himself.

“You can’t have your phone back until the morning when you’re completely sober.”

“Please Phichit? I really need to call someone.”

“Can it wait?”

“No, not really. I need to apologize to the person I pretended was Viktor…” Yuuri tries, pouting for extra measure.

“I still can’t believe you did that, but fine. If that’s what you’ll use your phone for.” Phichit says, reaching for Yuuri’s phone on his nightstand. “You got some messages by the way. I won’t ask, because I know you’ll come to me when you’re ready, but be careful okay? Love is a serious thing, and I don’t know how long you’ve been seeing this guy, or who he is, but be careful.”

Yuuri smiles and takes his phone from Phichit, glancing over the texts Viktor sent as he says, “It’s okay Phichit. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

“Just let me know if I need to bury someone. By the way, did you hear Viktor Nikiforov came to Detroit a little while ago?”

“Did he?” Yuuri smiles to himself, unlocking his phone and immediately setting it to the lowest brightness.

“Yeah. I guess you missed the news, being out at a hotel with whoever you’re seeing and all, but I think Viktor’s seeing someone. A person I follow on Twitter said they saw him walking his dog and kissing some guy. So I am really glad you found someone, because I’d hate to break this news to you otherwise.”

Yuuri just chuckles and looks up at his friend, grateful it’s dark so he can’t see his face, “Did they say what the guy looks like? Or get any pictures?”

“They said it was too dark to get any pics, but they said the guy was shorter and wearing Viktor’s Olympics jacket.”

“Oh, so they must be pretty serious?”

“I guess so. Time to really get over your obsession my friend.”

“Phichit, I will die loving that man. I will die for that man. I am his husband.”

“Whatever you say, Yuuri. You keep telling yourself that.”

“I will. Goodnight Phichit. Thanks for my phone back.” Yuuri turns and walks out of the room.

“‘Night!” Phichit calls out.

_To Vitya: You up?_

Yuuri texts, walking back to his room. He closes the door behind him, shuffling towards his bed. He sits down and crosses his legs, going through his phone till he gets to the camera roll. He barely has time to select the album of his and Viktor’s pictures when he gets a reply.

_From Vitya: Yes_

_From Vitya: Why are you up?_

Leaning over to his nightstand, Yuuri turns the small lamp on, winces, and FaceTimes Viktor. He’ll suffer through having the light on for his husband. Viktor picks up before the first ring even finishes.

“Yuuri?” Viktor raises an eyebrow, slight worry evident in his voice.

Yuuri shrugs, “I just woke up and felt I needed to call you. Have you not slept?” Yuuri frowns, noticing the tired look in his husband’s appearance.

“No.” Viktor sighs, running a hand over his face, “I can’t sleep.”

“Wanna talk about what’s keeping you up?”

Viktor gives him a small, sad smile, “I just miss you is all.”

“I miss you too. Is that all that’s keeping you up though?”

“No. Actually, just after Phichit interrupted your drunken ramblings, which by the way I recorded most of, I got a text from my dad…”

Yuuri decides to ignore Viktor telling him he recorded his drunken rant in favor of saying, “Your dad? Why would he contact you now?”

“I don’t know. He said he and my mom want to meet up, and I think they’re just going to ask for money. I know I’ll only be in St. Petersburg for a few days before heading to Sochi, but I’m scared they’re going to suddenly show up on our doorstep.”

Despite his worries for Viktor, hearing _our doorstep_ warms his heart. Even though he hasn’t been there yet, Viktor still refers to the apartment as theirs and Yuuri is eternally grateful. “Have you replied to him?”

“No. I don’t think I should.”

“I agree. I’ll support you with whatever you decide.” Is this why Yuuri had that dream? It’d explain why he didn’t have his usual repeat nightmares…

“What are you thinking about?” Viktor asks, staring at Yuuri intently through the screen.

“Oh. I just woke up from a dream about your second to night here, and felt like I had to call you, so I think it was a sign.”

“Wow. We really are connected.” Viktor says breathless, like he can’t believe it, as if he needed any more proof of their love. He stares at Yuuri in silent marvel, and Yuuri wishes he was there with him, so that he could see this look on his face clearly.

Yuuri smiles fondly, “We’re soulmates, Vitya.”

“Wow,” Viktor whispers, “I wonder what I did to deserve you.”

“Well, you are the most decorated male figure skater in history, so there’s that.”

“I hardly think that is deserving of someone as wonderful as you are. I must have saved the czar in my past life.”

Yuuri blushes, “Do you need me to fly to St. Petersburg?” He asks, changing the subject.

“This close to the GPF?”

“Yeah.”

“Being your coach, I’m going to have to say no. Stay in Detroit. It’s better to finish your last days of training under Celestino at your home rink than here with me in a rink that will expose us and cause a lot of unnecessary stress.”

“As my husband, what do you think?”

“Yes,” Viktor breathes, “I desperately want you here. If I ever say I don’t, I want you to run me over with your skates, or something. I don’t care.”

Yuuri lets out a small laugh, “You make the decision Vitya. You’d be paying for the plane ticket anyways.”

Viktor chuckles, “I love when my broke college funded husband gets me to buy things for him.”

“You weren’t complaining when I sent you that link for new underwear.”

“Oh darling, I expect pictures when they arrive. Both with them on and off.”

“Yes dear.”

“I won’t steal you from the ice so soon before the GPF. You’ll need the practice if you want to win our bet.”

“Honey, I could win that bet without practice.”

“We’ll see~”

They fall silent, merely staring at each other while letting the seconds tick by. Viktor’s lying on his side on the hotel bed. His hair fans out over the pillow, and he’s wearing the old shirt Yuuri told him to take. Yuuri smiles to himself at the sight. This is the Viktor only he gets to see, and there’ll never be a moment when he doesn’t marvel at the fact. Viktor Nikiforov is Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov now, and even if they’re in some strange after life, he’s the luckiest man alive. Still, his soul aches for his husband.

Viktor’s face progressively gets worse, so tired and worn looking that Yuuri finds himself wishing he could transport to Viktor’s side at the snap of his fingers. He doubts Viktor will be getting to sleep any time soon, so he resolves to talk to him until he does.

“What time will you be getting to Sochi?” Yuuri asks, breaking the silence.

“Should get there around noon.”

“You’re getting in before me. I get in around three.”

“Damn. How am I supposed to survive three hours?”

“You can survive by thinking about me sneaking into your hotel room once I manage to get away from Celestino.”

“Oooh naughty Yuuri.”

“You love it.”

“I sure as hell do. It really bothers me knowing Celestino is your coach again.”

“Why?”

“He plays it way too safe. He’s got no confidence in you.”

“No, but his coaching led me to the first Sochi GPF and dragged me to the banquet where I got drunk and miraculously seduced you. We can be thankful for that at least.”

“If there’s one thing I’m grateful towards him for, it’s that. If we get to skate next season, do you want to reuse your old routines or come up with new ones?”

“Let’s do new ones. This is a second chance at skating after all.”

“Okay. I’ve got some ideas for your FS already. We can talk about it when we get to Sochi, K?”

“Okay.”

“You’re wearing my shirt.” Viktor observes, yawning.

“I am.” Yuuri nods, looking down at himself. They decided to exchange a few articles of clothing when they met. It made being apart easier. It’s a small semblance of home. Yuuri looks back at Viktor, “And you’re wearing mine. I’m honored, you don’t usually wear clothes to bed.”

Viktor chuckles, closing his eyes, “Yakov actually _thanked_ me for putting something on the first time he came to wake me up.”

“I’m not sure if I should say ‘thank you’ or ‘I miss your chest.’”

In response to Yuuri, Viktor angles his phone down and lifts the shirt up to expose his stomach and chest, “Better?”

Yuuri lets out a long, impressed whistle, “Wow. My husband is a _sight_.”

“No, I think _my_ husband is better looking.”

Yuuri blushes, “No, it’s definitely my husband. I mean just look at him! He’s simultaneously showing off his beautiful body and wearing my shirt! Amazing!”

“Mmm...I’m so in love with my husband.” Viktor slurs. He’s falling asleep now. Good.

“I am too.” Yuuri whispers, “He never fails to surprise me.”

Viktor doesn’t say anything, and Yuuri figures it’s because he’s too far gone to say anything. He turns his lamp off and settles into his bed, taking a minute to watch as the worry leaves Viktor’s face. He starts talking again, quietly, because he knows Viktor will wake up if he doesn’t talk for at least a little while longer. 

His head starts to severely throb, and it becomes impossible for him to keep his eyes open. He loses his grip on his phone, and lets it fall onto the mattress, still on the phone with Viktor. The faint sound of his husband’s breathing lulls him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did not want to get written lol. It's a filler chapter, so things just weren't flowing like they usually do. As always, if y'all have any prompts you wanna see, feel free to comment what they are and I'll do my best to include them! I love all the ideas you've all had so far! I want this fic to be as self indulgent for you as it is for me 💕 Thank you all for reading!


	6. See You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Finally,_ the Sochi GPF arrives and Viktor and Yuuri are once again reunited.

Viktor steps into the hotel room, sighing as the door closes behind him. He sets his suitcase off to the side, cursing the fates for not delaying his flight like he had hoped. Of course, the one time he wants his flight delayed, Aeroflot is on time. He knew the chances of showing up at the same time as Yuuri were low, but a man can hope. It’s about time the universe does something for him, because he’s so desperately done with the cruel game of life and so ridiculously ready to have things start working in his favor again. 

His parents tried to get in contact again, claiming they wanted to meet up today, and Viktor told them he was too busy. It’s not a lie. He is too busy with flying to Moscow and preparing for the GPF to meet them. He doesn’t need the added stress of them begging for money they don’t need when his life (comatose dream? Ascension to heaven/decension to hell? Whatever the hell this is) is already such a disaster.

Trying to distract himself, he starts unpacking his bags. Yakov will come tomorrow with his costumes, so there really isn’t much he needs to worry about in terms of his clothes. He doesn’t plan to be seen out in public except for at the competition, so other than his own need to have his clothes wrinkle free, he puts everything away neatly. 

He looks around the room, deciding to spend his time waiting for his beloved husband down in the lobby because there’s nothing to do here but wallow in self-pity. The sooner they can meet, the better. His skin itches with the desire to see and touch Yuuri, and knowing he’s so close makes Viktor antsy. He can barely contain himself, ready to start his vacation with a side of competition with Yuuri. 

He takes the stairs down to the lobby instead of the elevator, feeling too energetic to be able to stand and wait for the elevator to move. By the time he’s climbed down the ten flights of stairs, Viktor’s ready to sit down. He finds a seat in an armchair hidden away in the corner. He’s facing the entrance, so he will be able to see the exact moment Yuuri walks through those doors. 

His phone buzzes with a notification, prompting him to pull the device out of his pocket and respond to the message. Christophe tagged him in a photo on Instagram, saying he can’t wait for this year's competition. He smiles and likes the picture, exiting the app and instead going onto Tumblr. He created his own account so that he’d be able to follow Yuuri, and he has not been disappointed in the content his husband posts about him. 

He scrolls through the account until he starts coming across posts he hasn’t seen before. He chuckles as he reads through the plethora of textposts.

_**Viktor Nikiforov’s clavicles give me life** _

_**Did you guys see Viktor’s SP? I wish he’d skate over me the way he skated that program** _

_**Hi guys I just wanted to stop by and say Viktor Nikiforov is the king of performance and no one can top his skating. Don’t even bother trying to convince me otherwise** _

_**List of people I love with all my heart and soul:  
1\. Viktor  
2\. Viktor Nikiforov  
3\. Victor  
4\. Victor Nikiforov  
5\. Виктор Никифоров  
6\. ヴィクトル・ニキフォロフ  
7\. Figure skating legend  
8\. The man with the most medals in mens singles   
9\. The most decorated figure skater in history  
10\. The living legend  
11\. Russia’s heartthrob  
12\. This year’s World’s most eligible bachelor  
13\. The man who was born December 25th in St. Petersburg  
14\. The man who owns a poodle named Makkachin  
15\. The person who’s name is in my url  
16\. The person who’s in my pfp** _

Viktor thoroughly enjoys reading through these posts. He’s told Yuuri as such, and ended up causing a pillow fight from his comments. How did Viktor get so lucky? Yuuri is too good for him. He checks the time on his phone and pouts. There’s still an hour until Yuuri is due to arrive. How can he just sit and wait? He wants to run to the airport and back, to get on the ice and skate, to do something. But alas, he’s stuck waiting. 

Hands appear in front of his eyes, blocking his vision. He startles, jumping out of the chair and turning to see the perpetrator. His eyes land on the most beautiful sight. In front of him, his husband doubles over cackling, trying to croak out the words “Got you!” but failing to get past his laughter.

“Yuuri!” Viktor happily exclaims, pouncing on Yuuri. He wraps his arms around his husband, nuzzling his cheek against the top of Yuuri’s head like a cat. 

“Hello Vitya.” Yuuri chuckles, eagerly returning Viktor’s embrace.

“You’re early!” Viktor pulls back enough to look Yuuri in the face, his hands holding him by the shoulders.

“Yeah, my flight got rescheduled. Something about trying to avoid a winter storm moving in.” Yuuri answers, reaching up and poking Viktor’s nose. 

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” Viktor laughs, returning Yuuri’s gesture.

“I think I have an idea.” Yuuri grins, glancing around the lobby, “Come on, let’s go before someone from the press spots us.”

“How are you feeling? Tired?” Viktor asks, taking Yuuri’s suitcase in one hand and Yuuri’s hand in the other.

“A little bit. It feels good to walk around.” 

“I bet.”

“How was your flight?” Yuuri asks, squeezing Viktor’s hand.

“Alright. It was great not having to sit and listen to Yura complaining about the snacks.”

“That’s free in flight entertainment.”

“More like free torture.”

They step into the elevators, finding themselves alone in the small space. Viktor presses the button for the top floor, turning to face Yuuri. One look into his eyes tells Viktor he’s thinking the same thing. They’re _alone and finally together_. Viktor lets go of the luggage and pushes Yuuri against the elevator walls, lips crashing against his. 

Yuuri moans at the intensity with which he kisses him, hand coming up to fist in Viktor’s hair. Viktor presses closer, letting go of his hand in favor of pressing both of his against the metal wall, caging his husband in. He nips at Yuuri’s bottom lip, soothing it with his tongue after. Yuuri responds by tugging on his hair, his leg slipping between Viktor’s. 

Viktor doesn’t know if the elevator stops to pick up more people, but he finds he does not care. Let them see him and Yuuri. Let them see the flush on Yuuri and his swollen lips. Let them see how wrapped around each other’s finger they are. He’s in love with this man, and he’ll be damned if the world thought otherwise.

The elevator comes to a halt, a distant ding forcing them to unlock their lips from each other. Viktor opens his eyes, and chuckles. “I feel like a hormonal teenager.” he mumbles, pulling Yuuri out of the elevator. Yuuri barely has time to grab his suitcase before Viktor tugs him out into the hallway. Viktor walks backwards, barely paying attention to where he’s going as he watches his husband smile.

“If you’re a hormonal teenager, what does that make me?” Yuuri laughs, watching him to make sure he doesn’t run into anything or anyone. 

“Also a hormonal teenager. Maybe we are hormonal, we’ve changed bodies after all.” Viktor replies thoughtfully, stopping in his tracks and draws Yuuri to his chest. “Or maybe,” Viktor whispers in his ear, “it’s just our very high sex drive.”

“Vitya!” Yuuri exclaims, smacking Viktor’s chest. He laughs, pulling his room card out of his pocket and opening the door to his right.

“I’m just speaking the truth darling.” Viktor says.

“I’ve barely been here for an hour, and I’m already going to be involved in a scandal.” Yuuri laments, dramatically putting his hand to his forehead. 

“Love, it’s hardly a scandal when we’re married.” Viktor laughs.

“No, it’s still a scandal.” 

“Fine, we’ll just have to consistently cause scandals so that they’re no longer scandals.”

“Maybe when I’m as famous as you are.”

“So after the GPF?”

“No, probably after next season.”

“I don’t know love. You’ve been causing a stir with your skating lately.”

Yuuri shrugs, his eyes catching doors to lead out to the small balcony and makes a beeline for them. Viktor follows Yuuri out, coming behind him and wrapping his arms around him.

“Oh so now you touch me.” Yuuri laughs, placing his hands on Viktor’s arms.

“What do you mean? I let go of you for one minute.” Viktor nuzzles his nose into Yuuri’s neck.

“Yes, a minute too long.”

“I agree.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

“I opened the door and then you let go of my hand to be dramatic.”

“Oh. This is a nice view.” Yuuri says, dropping the subject and leaning back into Viktor’s chest.

“Is it?” Viktor mumbles, burying his nose in Yuuri’s hair. “I haven’t paid it any attention. I have my eyes on a much better view.”

Viktor can’t see Yuuri’s face, but he knows he’s blushing. He can see the red spreading down his lover’s neck. He loves making his husband blush. He’s truly the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on. “Let’s go back inside. It’s cold out here.” 

Yuuri turns around in his arms and pushes him back inside. He doesn’t stop until the back of Viktor’s knees hit the edge of the bed and he falls back, left to lean up on his elbows and stare. “Celestino gets here tomorrow morning at ten. When does Yakov get here?” Yuuri asks, waiting for Viktor to move up the bed before flopping onto him, causing a quiet “oof” to come from him.

“About the same time.” Viktor answers, arms circling around Yuuri and holding him close/

“That means I get to have you all to myself for a while then. Good.” Yuuri curls his body around Viktor. 

“You always have me to yourself, Solnyshko.”

“No, sometimes I have to share you with the world.”

“Maybe, but you always hold my attention.”

“Good.” Yuuri’s hand slides under Viktor’s shirt, running up and down his side. Viktor shivers at the slightly too cold touch.

“Wanna take a nap?” Viktor asks, loving how Yuuri has completely relaxed against him. He adores how at peace Yuuri is with him. He remembers a time when his darling ran at every touch, and preens when he thinks of how far they’ve come.

“That sounds lovely.” Yuuri murmurs, pressing a kiss to Viktor’s clothed chest and nestling his face into the crook of his neck.

* * *

After having a day to get settled with Celestino, Yuuri knocks on Viktor’s door, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits for his husband to answer. He forgot to grab the spare room key from him earlier in the morning, and since their respective coaches kept them busy, he hasn’t had time to snatch it from his husband. 

Viktor opens the door, a wide smile on his face. “Yuuri! I thought Celestino would never let you go.” He says, jumping to wrap his arms around Yuuri. “I was about to come take you from him.”

“Sorry,” Yuuri laughs as Viktor plucks him off his feet and carries him into the room. Yuuri wraps his legs around Viktor’s waist and his arms around his neck, “we had a lot of official stuff to get through, and then he decided we should get dinner because he’s so excited I got to the GPF.”

“How was dinner?” Viktor asks, standing in the middle of the room, refusing to put Yuuri down. 

“Awkward. It’s weird. I know I’m going to say goodbye to him as my coach, and I feel guilty pretending to be interested in what he’s thinking about next season.”

“Hmm…” Viktor frowns, thinking, “guess that means I’ll have to whisk you away to every meal so you don’t have another awkward one, and so we can discuss our next season, should we have it. I am your soon-to-be coach after all.”

“Think you can handle me? I might get anxious.” Yuuri warns.

“That’s okay. I’ll be your shoulder to lean on if you get anxious.” Viktor smiles softly.

“I know. I just hope you’re not wearing anything important when I inevitably cover your shoulder in snot” Yuuri cringes, remembering all the times he’s cried on him. He focuses on Viktor’s face, witnessing the way his eyes soften and smile warms, radiating pure adoration. He’s gazing at Yuuri as if he created the universe and holds all of its beauty. Yuuri melts at the sight of the love of his life. Being in his arms, wrapped completely around him, safe and protected, it’s all so much. Tears prickle in the corner of his eyes as his heart swells with overwhelming love. “I love you,” he whispers, burying his face into his husband's neck and tenderly kissing it, “so so so much.”

“I love you too.” Viktor breathes, gingerly walking to the bed. He doesn’t let go of Yuuri as he lays him down on his back. Rather, he lets himself crush Yuuri with his weight. It’s a welcome pressure, even if he does have to work a little harder to breathe. 

“How was your day?” Yuuri asks, slightly breathless.

“It was alright.” Viktor answers, rolling off Yuuri but not letting him go, “Yakov has Yura to settle in too so he let me go free most of the day.”

“How is Yura?” 

“He’s as angry as you’d expect him to be around this age.”

“We’ll have to go watch his programs.”

“Definitely.”

“How long do you wanna stay in Hasetsu after Worlds?” Yuuri asks, slipping his hands under Viktor’s shirt. 

“A week? Two weeks? How long can we stay?” Viktor’s hands move slowly down Yuuri’s body, coming to slip into the back pockets of his jeans.

“We can stay for however long you’d like. Though, I’d prefer not too long. I love them, but the walls are so thin and I do not want to hear Mari give me another talk about how to have safe, hard sex.” Yuuri cringes, scrunching his nose at the memory.

Viktor laughs, giving Yuuri’s ass a little squeeze, “At least that’s all you got. She cornered me and told me in explicit detail how she’d kill me if I so much as scratched your back in bed.”

“Oh my gosh,” Yuuri groans, burying himself in Viktor as he tries to hide his embarrassment. “I’m going to get ready for bed.” Yuuri announces out of the blue, peeling himself out of Viktor’s embrace and leaving his husband to whimper. 

He stands and walks to the closet, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from Viktor’s suitcase. His own is in the room Celestino thinks he’s in, and he doesn’t feel like going down two stories just to get his own clothes. He’s always felt better wearing Viktor’s things anyways. Shedding the jeans he’s got on, he slides into the slightly too big pair of sweats, and takes his shirt off. He turns back to the bed and sees Viktor has discarded himself of all his clothes, leaving him in just his underwear. Yuuri turns the lights off before walking over. 

“I was planning to wear those to practice tomorrow.” Viktor comments when Yuuri slips under the covers.

“You still can.” Yuuri tells him, propping his head up on his elbow.

“Yes, but now I’m going to be thinking of my husband wearing them and won’t be able to concentrate.” Viktor sighs, biting back a smile.

“Vitya I didn’t think you’d be able to concentrate anyways.” Yuuri laughs, poking Viktor’s chest.

“I had hope!” Viktor cries indignantly.

“Did you?” 

“Yes.”

“Mhmm. I don’t believe it.”

“Does this mean I can wear one of your practice shirts tomorrow?”

“My shirts are too small for you to wear out in public like that.” Yuuri frowns.

“It’s not really public though.” Viktor counters.

“It’s public enough. I’d rather keep the sight of you in my clothes to myself.” Yuuri mumbles, wrapping the comforter tight around him as he settles into bed, ready for sleep.

“Oh? Is my Yuuri feeling possessive?” Viktor shifts closer to him, curling a leg around his waist.

“Go to sleep Vitya.” Yuuri smiles, reaching an arm out to wrap around Viktor’s torso.

“Goodnight my love.” Viktor mumbles, fully wrapping himself around Yuuri like the octopus he is.

Yuuri wakes to an incessant alarm going off and groans, forcing himself to sit up. He turns the screeching device off, relaxing in the sudden silence. He turns over to Viktor and places a kiss on his lips, causing him to squirm and pull Yuuri down.

“Vitya it’s time to get up.” Yuuri mumbles, pressing another kiss to his husband’s lips. 

Viktor opens one eye, peeking up at Yuuri. “One more kiss?” he croaks out, sleep saturating his voice.

Yuuri rolls his eyes, but complies, pressing his lips to Viktor’s once more. When he pulls back, Viktor sits up, rubbing his eyes and stretching. Yuuri slides out of bed and out of Viktor’s sweatpants, throwing them at him to catch. “Here’s your sweats.” Yuuri says laughing.

“Gee thanks.” Viktor grumbles, getting up and changing into his practice clothes. He goes to the bathroom and quickly goes through his morning routine.

Yuuri puts his clothes from yesterday on, shivering as the cold material rests on his body. “Are you coming with me to my room?” he asks, grabbing his phone from the nightstand.

“Yes,” Viktor grins from the bathroom doorway, “I’m not going to turn down the opportunity to see you naked.”

“Just for that I’m going to change in the bathroom.” Yuuri snickers.

“Yuuuuuri!” Viktor complains, walking out and pouting.

“Come on, let’s go before Celestino or Yakov feel inclined to wake us.” Yuuri grabs Viktor’s hand and pulls him out of the room.

“Have I told you how great you look with bedhead?” Viktor asks once they’re in the elevator.

“You say that from time to time.” Yuuri muses, squeezing Viktor’s hand.

“Your sex hair is even better though.” Viktor presses his index finger to his lips.

“Viktor!” Yuuri hisses, feeling his face heat up.

“What? I’m just speaking the truth.” Viktor says innocently.

“You’re incorrigible.” Yuuri shakes his head, letting go of Viktor’s hand as he steps out of the elevator. 

“Yuuri!” Viktor dashes up next to him, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “I know you think the same of me. I’ve seen your Tumblr.”

“You’re pushing your luck.” Yuuri shakes his head, opening the door to what’s supposed to be his room.

“Sorry, sorry.” Viktor chuckles, leaning against the door as soon as it closes.

“Don’t lie.” Yuuri chastises, going to his suitcase and pulling out a change of clothes. 

“Can I take you out for lunch today?” Viktor asks, voice lower than what it was two seconds ago. Yuuri can feel his eyes on his ass and smirks.

“Sure, if you can get to me in time.” 

“Oh I’ll get to you in time.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because no one can stop me from getting to my husband.”

“Not even Chris?”

“Especially Chris. I will not let him touch your ass.”

Yuuri breaks out into laughter, pulling a loose T-shirt over his head. “What happens if he does?”

“Then Hell hath no fury.” Viktor answers, pushing himself off the door and grabbing Yuuri’s skating bag for him while he walks into the bathroom.

“I kind of want to see that.” Yuuri remarks.

“It’ll never happen.”

“Wanna bet?”

“No.”

“I hope you know I’m planning on doing a quad flip in my routine.” Yuuri changes the subject, coming out and taking his bag from Viktor.

“I’d expect nothing less. We can run through it a couple times before everyone else gets to the rink. Muscle memory is not on your side anymore.” Viktor says, authority seeping into his voice the way it always does when he wears his coach persona. It amazes Yuuri how fast he can switch from husband to coach and vice versa.

“I thought about doing more, but I don’t wanna shock the audience anymore than I will be with the quad flip.” Yuuri says as they leave the room. Viktor slings his arm around him again.

“Why not?”

“They’ll need time to warm up to the Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov who can do a quad axel.”

“Do I get to see that Yuuri in practice?”

“Maybe. If time permits it.”

“I can’t wait. I love your skating.” They step into the elevator, and as the doors close, Yuuri wraps his arms around his husband so that their chests press together.

“Mmm...I love you.” Yuuri smiles, tilting his chin up to silently ask for a kiss.

Viktor obliges, gently kissing Yuuri. “I love you, too.”

“Ready to lose your fifth consecutive gold medal in the GPF?” Yuuri asks, stepping away from him as the elevator doors open to the lobby.

“You mean win?” Viktor asks, following him out. He keeps his distance though, not wanting to alert anyone who might recognize them. Yuuri feels the distance between them like a punch to the gut. He wants to hold onto Viktor, but he knows he can’t. 

“No, I fully intend to win.” Yuuri says, glancing back at his husband. They walk out of the lobby doors, and Yuuri laments the short distance from the hotel to the rink. With the two buildings right next to each other, they have no choice but to walk. He would have loved to get in a taxi so he can put his hands back on his love.

“Darling, I think I have the better incentive to win.” Viktor says. Yuuri can see the way his hands twitch at his sides. 

“We’ll just have to see won’t we?” He winks. He doesn’t dare look directly into his eyes, knowing if he’ll break if he does.

They come up to the building and show their passes, being let in by the staff. They know their way around already, but entertain the staff member showing them around. They probably could’ve planned this better, but being eager to get on the ice before everyone else left them scrambling for the bare necessities. Their team jackets got left behind, and Yuuri is sorely missing his now. Oh well.

They set their things down next to each other on a bench, and lace up their skates. There’s minimal staff around, which served as the deciding factor that they can be touchy. Yuuri tugs on Viktor’s shirt, getting him to stand and walks with him to the entrance. Once their skate guards are off, and they’re on the ice, Yuuri relaxes. He can almost pretend they’re home. Almost.

“At least we got to keep our skating.” he says, skating backwards, “If we ended up in some weirdly parallel universe, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Viktor skates next to him, reaching his hand out to take Yuuri’s, “We would’ve figured it out.” he reassures.

Yuuri just smiles and squeezes his hand. They go through their warm up exercises with practiced ease, goofing off every once in a while just because they can. They’re skating together, competing once again. They can’t help but kiss and laugh and tease as they realize their absurd situation. Time flies while they’re together, and they forget they’re in a public space. 

Viktor catches Yuuri in his arms and lifts him, laughing as his husband squeals. He twirls around, keeping his hold firm around Yuuri’s waist. When he puts him down, Yuuri turns and leans in for a quick peck. He moves to skate away, but Viktor catches Yuuri’s wrist and pulls him closer. Leaning down, he-

“Viktor!” Yakov’s voice booms throughout the empty arena, making the two lovebirds jump apart.

“Yakov!” Viktor grins and waves. Yuuri waves too, albeit a little less enthusiastically than his husband. 

“Get over here.” Yakov commands, causing Viktor to pout.

He turns to Yuuri, “I’ll be back.” 

Viktor, however, never gets to come back. Yakov keeps him for...honestly Yuuri lost track after counting twenty minutes. Then other skaters and their coaches come in, taking away from their time alone to screw around and practice by themselves, and consequently leaving Yuuri with no more time to practice quads. Finally, Celestino comes in out of breath, calling him to the rink barrier.

Yuuri sighs, skating over to his current (former? How should he refer to Celestino?) coach. He can feel Viktor’s eyes on him, and he wishes he could return what are undoubtedly bedroom eyes being made at his thighs. A shiver runs down his spine at the thought of what those eyes often lead to, and it takes every fiber of his being to not pull Viktor off the ice and into a secluded bathroom. He needs to get revenge on his love for making him have such indecent thoughts in public.

“Yuuri, you weren’t in your room.” Celestino says once he gets close enough.

“No, I uh, I wanted to get to practice early.” Yuuri says, trying not to think about the very intense stare on his behind.

“Oh. You should’ve told me. I couldn’t reach you.” Celestino frowns.

“Sorry.” Yuuri says, scratching the back of his head. He feels apologetic for not giving Celestino a heads up. He wonders if it was wrong of him to come early. He is practicing behind his coach’s back, and isn’t being honest with him. Isn’t this wrong?

“How confident are you on your programs?” Celestino eyes the competition behind him, frowning.

“I’m confident. I won’t disappoint you.” Yuuri says, conviction in his voice. He hears someone skate up behind him, then feels a hand grab his ass. He knows it’s Viktor, so he doesn’t flinch. He’ll definitely need to get revenge now.

“Work on your step sequences. I’m sure you’ve been doing jumps all morning?” Celestino doesn’t seem to have noticed the intimate touch, or if he did he doesn’t comment on it. Yuuri is glad. He’d hate to have to explain why Viktor Nikiforov would do such a thing to him.

“Yes. Viktor was here too, so I wasn’t alone.” he reassures, biting his tongue.

“Oh. Good.” Celestino sounds surprised.

Yuuri nods then takes off for the ice again, ready to run from the uneasiness in his chest that conversation gave him.

* * *

When Viktor tried to touch Yuuri’s glorious ass, he meant for it to be subtle and unnoticed. But, of course, Chris saw the action and skated up to him. 

“Viktor, did I just see you grope Katsuki?” Chris asks, stopping Viktor mid step sequence.

“No,” Viktor answers, “I didn’t grope. I was just showing him my affections.”

“Do you think I can show him my affections?” Chris eyes Yuuri, and it takes everything in Viktor to not act on the possessiveness rising in his chest.

“No,” Viktor’s reply is firm, “only I can show him my affections.” After experiencing near death (or death, he really isn’t sure if he’s alive or not) and having to long distance, Viktor cannot stomach the idea of someone else touching Yuuri. He can barely handle the distance between them!

Chris whistles, “I don’t know how you accomplished it, Nikiforov, but I’m impressed you managed to play with Katsuki. Even I haven’t been able to do that. When do you plan on ghosting him? After the competition I hope. His confidence is very fragile.”

“I’m not playing with him Chris,” Viktor crosses his arms, bile rising in his throat at the mere thought of playing Yuuri. He watches as his beloved launches into a triple salchow, “And I mean what I said earlier. Only I can touch his ass.”

“Why? It’s not like you two are married. You haven’t even met before today?”

“One day you’ll understand, my friend. Today is not that day, but one day.” Viktor smiles, skating off towards Yuuri’s direction. Chris is left staring at him, bewildered and appalled.

“You’re quite bold.” Yuuri says, barely casting him a glance as he comes up.

“I can’t help it. You look amazing in those sweatpants.” Viktor shrugs, “and I am a very weak man.”

“I know you are, Vitya.” Yuuri smirks, sashaying away. Viktor whistles, forgetting the people surrounding them are not they’re friends, not really, and watches as Yuuri lands a quad salchow. He distantly hears Celestino’s praise and wonder, but Yuuri was a little wobbly, and if his former (technically current coach, despite Viktor’s protests) won’t call him out on it, then he will.

“Yuuri~” he calls, gaining his husband’s attention. He bites his lower lip as he eyes Yuuri wiping sweat from his brow.

“Yes?” Yuuri calls, raising an eyebrow.

“Your landing was wobbly.” Viktor will not fall into Yuuri’s trap. Nope.

“Oh?” Yuuri levels him with a look, one that has Viktor’s blood run south.

“Try it again.” Viktor stares back, daring Yuuri to fight back.

“Make me.” Yuuri challenges.

“Viktor!” Yakov all but screams from the sidelines, forcing Viktor to tear his eyes away from Yuuri.

“Try that jump again. We’re not done.” Viktor promises, skating away to see what his coach wants.

“Focus!” Yakov hisses once Viktor is in earshot, “If you don’t take this seriously, you won’t take home the gold.”

“Yeah, I know.” Viktor turns his back to Yakov, watching as his husband moves towards Celestino. “I’m still debating if I want silver or gold.”

“What the hell do you mean you’re debating?” Yakov’s face reddens with barely contained anger.

“I’m thinking I don’t want to give up the gold though.” Viktor puts his finger to his lips, trying to hide his smile.

“Then what the fuck are you screwing around for?” Yakov grits out.

“I think it’s lunch time! Viktor announces suddenly, having seen the way Yuuri tensed up while talking to his coach. “Bye Yakov!”

Viktor goes over to Yuuri quickly, slinging his arm around his husband and wincing slightly when he realizes he startled the beauty. “Yuuri!” he exclaims, holding himself back from completely smothering him. The telltale signs of anxiety are starting to show on his husband, and he doesn’t want to overwhelm him. “It’s time for lunch.”

“Oh, already?” He asks, and Viktor can feel him relax under his arm.

“Yup!” He pops the 'p' for extra emphasis, more so for Celestino than Yuuri.

“I didn’t realize you two were close.” Celestino says, looking back and forth between the two. Viktor can see now what Yuuri meant when he said being around Celestino was awkward. Perhaps he needs a stronger word for such an uncomfortable aura. No wonder Yuuri is getting anxious.

“We met just recently.” Viktor lies smoothly, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulders lightly. “Anyways we should get going.” 

“Yes, yes. I’ll need to stop by my room first though.” Yuuri says, turning his attention to Viktor as he waves goodbye to Celestino. 

“I do too.” Viktor admits, letting his arm fall from Yuuri as they exit the ice.

The walk back to the hotel is a quiet one. Yuuri’s shivering as the cold air hits his body, and Viktor’s not immune to the chills either. He aches to reach out and envelop his husband, to share body heat, and to stay close. He holds back, though it means fighting every screaming cell in his body. 

Once they’re in the elevator though...that’s a different story. They’re blessed enough to be alone, and as soon as those doors close, Viktor has Yuuri in his grasp. He rubs his hands up and down Yuuri’s arms, attempting to warm him up. “Shower with me?” he asks quietly.

“If I do, I don’t think we’ll be able to eat lunch.” Yuuri says, resting his forehead on Viktor’s shoulder.

“Well, it’d just be a different lunch, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying.” Viktor comments, watching the floor number slowly rise.

“Viktor…” Yuuri groans, lightly hitting his head against his shoulder.

“Yes, my love?” 

“I’ll shower in my room, and you can shower in yours. I’ll come up and then we can figure out lunch.”

“Damn, here I was thinking I’d get to see my husband naked.”

“Later.”

“So cruel.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“Will I? I don’t know if I can.”

“You will. I guarantee the moment you see me naked you’ll be over it.”

“I’d have to see you naked to know for sure.”

“Bye Viktor~” Yuuri sings, leaving his embrace as the elevator doors open.

Viktor would’ve followed, but recognition on the faces of a couple walking out of their room keeps him stuck in place. He waves at them, seeing their faces light with excitement at the acknowledgement. He sighs, watching miserably as the doors close and the numbers tick by. He’s already feeling Yuuri’s absence, and now that he’s got his husband back after over a month, and on limited time, every second together is crucial. He hangs his head as he walks out of the elevator, nearly passing his room door.

He gets in, and goes through the motions of getting ready for a shower. Once the water is warm enough for him, he hops in and stands in the water, staring ahead. He hopes Yuuri is able to finish school soon, so that they can live together. He’s really not sure how much more of this long-distancing thing he can take. He sinks to the floor, unable to stay standing. Water cascades around him, forcing him to bring his knees to his chest and hide his face in his arms.

He feels guilty too, for leaving Yuuri when he knows any second he could be in the throes of anxiety. He should’ve ignored that couple. He shouldn’t have been so cautious earlier. Why did this happen to them? He misses the days when he could touch Yuuri and not cause a scandal. He misses the world knowing about their love. He misses the constant presence of his true love by his side. Why did this have to happen? Why? Why? Why?

“Viktor?” Yuuri’s voice echoing through the room brings him out of his thoughts, “How long have you been in the shower?”

“Uhh…” He lifts his head and looks around, not sure what he’s trying to find, “I’m not sure.”

“Well hurry up. I’m starving.” Yuuri tells him. 

Viktor takes a deep breath, pushing away all his grievances as he stands and rushes through his shower. He barely has the mind to wrap a towel around himself once he gets out, far too eager to pass through the threshold of the bathroom and into his husband.

“Yuuri!” He cries out, launching himself into his unsuspecting husband’s arms.

“Viktor!” Yuuri laughs, catching him in a tight hug. “What are you doing?”

“Just making sure my husband knows I love him.” He answers, squeezing his arms around Yuuri. Everything he let himself get away with thinking in the shower leaves him. He wants to spend the rest of his life with Yuuri in his arms, to never have to separate from him again. “You do know I love you, right?”

“Yes, I do. And I love you too.” Yuuri pushes Viktor back a little, much to his dismay. “Go get dressed. I’m ready to eat. We missed out on breakfast, and I do not intend on missing out on lunch too.”

“Okay,” he pouts, but obeys his husband, “what do you feel like eating?”

“Depends, are we going out or staying in?” Yuuri asks, sitting on the bed.

“Well, I had been thinking of going out, but now I think I wanna stay in.” Viktor answers, pulling out a pair of pants from his suitcase.

“Okay, I’ll order us some room service then.” Yuuri stands and picks up the phone.

Viktor waits for Yuuri on the bed, sitting with his legs crossed as he stares at him. He’s been thinking about Yuuri’s words last week, about being soulmates. Is that why they’ve been sent back in time together? Is that why they were both hit by the truck, instead of the accident befalling on just one of them? He has so many questions about this all. But if there’s one thing he’s certain about, it’s that he and Yuuri _are_ soulmates.

When Yuuri puts down the phone, he joins Viktor on the bed, mirroring the way he’s sitting. He puts his hands up, silently requesting to play rock, paper, scissors. Viktor obliges, speaking the words in sync with Yuuri, throwing out paper while Yuuri plays rock. Viktor covers Yuuri’s fist, gently squeezing before pulling his hand away to continue the game.

“When can you move back in with me?” Viktor asks after a couple rounds. He hits his fist against his palm three times, trying to find a pattern in Yuuri’s moves.

“About a month before worlds?” Yuuri answers, using his scissors to cut Viktor’s paper.

“Will I get to be your coach?” Viktor asks, focusing on Yuuri’s hands.

“Sure. It’ll be an interesting talk with Celestino, but it can be done.” Yuuri frowns, his lower lip jutting out as Viktor lightly slams his rock to his scissors.

“Do I need to help you with anything?” Viktor asks, glancing up at Yuuri’s face.

“Will you be able to help me move my stuff out of the dorms?” Yuuri asks, looking at Viktor through his eyelashes. Viktor has never seen such a gorgeous sight. “You’ll be in the middle of training...”

“For you? Of course.” Viktor replies, smiling softly.

“I’ll have to tell Phichit beforehand.” Yuuri says, smirking as he wins yet another round.

“The full truth or…?” Viktor questions, grinning in triumph when he wins the next round.

“I don’t know yet.” Yuuri gets up when someone knocks at the door. Viktor hears Yuuri thank the person, and watches as he comes back with their lunch. He got them sandwiches. It’s simple, but filling, and Viktor’s mouth waters at the sight of his.

“Who won rock, paper, scissors?” Viktor asks, taking a large bite out of his sandwich.

“I lost count after the thirteenth round.” Yuuri admits, biting into his own.

“Call it a tie?”

“Sure.”

They eat in silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence. Viktor can’t take his eyes off Yuuri. He loves seeing his body move with every breath, loves seeing the little ticks he subconsciously makes. He loves him, and he’ll continue loving him even after he breathes his last breath.

As they finish and push their trash to the side, Yuuri’s phone goes off. Yuuri grabs it, frowns for a split second before answering the call. “Hi Phichit!” he waves.

“Hey Yuuri, how’s Sochi?” Phichit greets.

“It’s cold, but good. Practice was exhausting.” Yuuri drops his phone onto the bed and pushes Viktor off while he speaks.

“Really Yuuri? Again?” Viktor asks, unamused as his butt hits the floor. He glares at his husband, who just offers an apologetic shrug. How many times is this going to happen?

“Yuuri who is that?” Phichit questions.

“Oh, it’s uh...no one.” Yuuri lies, picking his phone up again.

“Is it that guy you’ve been seeing?” Viktor’s very tempted to insert himself into the call, but he holds back. He knows Yuuri isn’t ready for that conversation yet.

“Yeah.” Yuuri confirms.

“Wow, he gets to be in Sochi with you but I don’t? I’m hurt.” Phichit sighs dramatically.

“He was already in Sochi!” 

“I’m surprised you can focus on someone else besides Viktor. You’re literally breathing the same air and skating on the same ice as him!”

“I know.” Yuuri smiles, glancing over at Viktor. Viktor finds he can’t stay annoyed when presented with such a beautiful smile.

“Are you starting to lose your obsession?”

“I won’t ever stop loving Viktor, Phichit.”

“Wow, you say that with your man in the room. Speaking of, let me meet him!” Phichit shouts, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Not yet. I don’t think I’m quite ready to introduce you two yet.” Yuuri admits, biting his lip.

“Oh. Well, you will soon I hope, yes?” Phichit takes the rejection in stride. Yuuri is very grateful his friend doesn't push.

“Yes. I’ll talk to you about him some more later, I promise.”

“You better,” Phichit warns, “I heard you nearly gave Celestino a heart attack today.”

“Yeah...I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to get to practice early.”

“Oh my sweet, anxious Yuuri. Don’t over exert yourself.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep scaring Celestino to a minimum. Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Phichit raises an eyebrow.

“I can’t guarantee I’ll not scare him when I’m in my husband’s presence. There’s no telling how I’ll behave around him. ”

“Have you even talked to Viktor?”

“Yes. We were both at practice early.”

“Congratulations on a dream come true!” Phichit screeches, forcing Yuuri to pull the phone away from him.

“Thanks.” He laughs, “I’ll keep you updated on any interactions I have with him. I gotta go. Talk to you later?”

“Yup. Bye Yuuri!” His best friend waves, a shit eating grin on his face as the call ends.

“Bye Phichit!” 

As soon as Yuuri hangs up, Viktor stands and hops back on the bed. “Yuuri, I love you, but how many times are you going to push me off the bed while you talk to Phichit?”

“I don’t know.” Yuuri shrugs, tossing his phone off to the side.

“You don’t know?” Viktor asks, disbelief written all over. 

“Nope.”

“Rip to my ass then.”

“Your ass is too perfect to damage.”

“Tell that to the bruise I feel coming on.”

“You’re not bruising Vitya”

“I could be!”

“No, you’re not.”

Viktor pouts, deciding to climb under the covers and turn his back to his husband. It’s late afternoon, so he doubts he’ll be able to sleep, but he can still give Yuuri the silent treatment. Yuuri comes up behind him, wrapping an arm around his torso as he presses his body against Viktor’s. He leans over and kisses Viktor’s cheek. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles, moving his lips to his neck.

Viktor grunts, trying very hard not to fall for his tactics and staring straight ahead. He tries very hard to ignore the lips latched onto him, sucking. “You can’t leave any marks.” Viktor grumbles, falling to the temptation of letting his eyes shut.

“You have makeup.” Yuuri whispers, moving his lips to Viktor’s shoulder.

“Mmm...I’m not forgiving you that easily.” He says, biting his lower lip.

“No?”

“No.”

“Guess I have a lot of making up to do then.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re talking to me though, so you’re not that mad.”

“I’m just trying to give you a hard time as payback.”

“I know.” Yuuri chuckles, peppering Viktor in light kisses, “What are we doing for the rest of the day?”

“I don’t know. The juniors have the ice now, I think, so whatever you want, we can do.” Viktor answers, finally turning around to look at Yuuri.

“Wanna take me sightseeing?” Yuuri suggests, sitting up to look down at Viktor.

“Sure, let’s go. I know some great spots where we can make some of your fanfiction scenes come true” Viktor grins, pulling Yuuri out of bed. 

“I’m never living that down am I?” Yuuri sighs.

“Nope! Now come on, let’s go so we can get to places before they close.” Viktor grins, practically running out of the room with Yuuri’s hand in his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a couple lowkey plot holes, but honestly fixing them meant going a different direction than what I wanted to, so hello plot armor! Also, last chapter, when Phichit mentions Viktor being in Detroit, that was [ Evocative_Enigma's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evocative_Enigma/pseuds/Evocative_Enigma) idea (I'm so sorry I didn't mention it last chapter, I couldn't find your comment for the life of me and when I did find it, I felt it would be better to put it here so everyone can know). I hope this is living up to being humorous lol. Soon, I'll have together a YouTube playlist or smth of songs for this fic. Also, I got a job! I will try to keep that from interfering with the updating of this fic and all my other WIPs, but rn it's hard to promise because I'm in the middle of midterms and prepping to move. Thank you all so much for reading! I look forward to reading your comments and any ideas/prompts you want to see! I hope you're all staying safe! 💞💞💞💞💞


	7. Smile Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An evening in the life of Viktor and Yuuri pre-competition. Also Yuri has a potty mouth.

“Viktor are we lost?” Yuuri asks, watching as his frowning husband looks from side to side.

“No, we’re not lost. Just...temporarily displaced.” He answers, biting on his lower lip.

“Okay, so we’re lost.” Yuuri deadpans, feeling around his pockets for his phone. Now it’s his turn to frown. He can’t feel his phone on his person, and it’s now when he realizes he left it on the hotel bed.

“Maybe just a little?” Viktor offers, starting to walk in a random direction. Yuuri follows, despite knowing Viktor will probably just get them even more lost.

“Viktor whatever happened to _I know Sochi I’ve been to Sochi many times before_?”

“In all fairness, this is the first time being back in 2014, I don’t remember what it was like before all the changes in the future. And unlike when the first GPF happened, I wasn’t entirely paying attention to what we were doing because I was too busy staring at my husbands perfect ass and glorious thighs”

“Viktor…” Yuuri sighs, exasperated and embarrassed.

“I’m just speaking the truth darling.” Viktor says, reaching back and grabbing Yuuri’s hand. He laces their fingers together and swings their hands between them, happy and completely at ease despite their unfavorable circumstance.

“Whatever,” Yuuri says, rolling his eyes. He looks around the street, trying to determine if anything looks familiar. “Vitya, do you have your phone?”

Viktor uses his free hand to search his pockets, shrugs, and says “Nope.”

Yuuri groans, hitting his forehead with his palm, “What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me.” Viktor says easily, squeezing his hand.

“Yes, I suppose I could do that.” Yuuri mutters, “Or I could commit a heinous crime, but I think I’ll kick your ass in the GPF instead and make you do all the housework for an indefinite amount of time.”

“Yuuri!” Viktor takes mock offense, “You can’t just go changing the terms of our bet like that!”

“Why not? You did get us lost after all.”

“Getting lost has nothing to do with that specific bet.”

“Let’s just find a quick bite to eat and hope we can make it back in time to watch Yura’s skate.” Yuuri says, letting go of Viktor’s hand in favor of linking their arms together. It’s cold and Yuuri quite likes pressing against Viktor to stay warm. It brings fond memories back to their first Winter together in St. Petersburg, when they’d walk to and from the rink practically on top of each other to stay warm.

Now though, the air is different between them as they walk. Yuuri can feel how tense Viktor is despite the easygoing look he tries to show, and knows it has nothing to do with them being lost and everything to do with how they’re out on the streets. They huddle near the buildings simply because they’re both afraid that if they stray too close to the street, they’ll be hit again. Yuuri himself feels nauseous and fearful every time they have to cross the street. They’re always hesitant, trying to fight the urges to just run.

Yuuri rests his head on Viktor’s shoulder as they walk, and feels his husband relax slightly at the contact. He wonders if they’ll ever be able to fully recover from this accident, if they’ll ever have a need to fully recover. He hasn’t had any dreams with new information in weeks, and it scares him. He hopes Viktor is doing okay, that he’s out of surgery and being well tended to. He knows their friends will take good care of them, but he worries Viktor’s parents will try to insert themselves into their life while they’re defenseless.

“What kind of food do you feel like eating?” Viktor asks, breaking Yuuri out of his thoughts.

“The kind of food I feel like eating is not the kind of food I should be eating.” He answers.

“Well, what is it you feel like eating?” Viktor looks down at him, “We can figure out a healthier option for whatever it is.”

“Katsudon. Specifically Yura’s piroshki katsudon.”

Viktor chuckles, “Okay, how about we find somewhere with a good chicken dish? It’s too close to the competition for pork.”

Yuuri hums in agreement, deciding he really doesn’t care what they eat. He just wants to be with Viktor. The longer they’re together, the more Yuuri’s chest aches as he comes to realize just how long they’ve been apart. It hurts. The distance between them has been so great, and now that they’re together again, Yuuri can’t get enough. He seriously has to figure out how he’s going to keep his hands away from Viktor when they’re in front of the press. Maybe letting the press know about their relationship wouldn’t be so bad after all…

* * *

Viktor and Yuuri come up to the stands, sitting in the designated area for other skaters. They sit a little closer than what might be considered socially appropriate, but neither one of them care. The attention is on the junior skaters, not them. 

“It’s so weird to see Yura so young again.” Yuuri comments, watching as said teenager stands near the boards, impatiently waiting to get on the ice.

“I know. I mean, I’ve gotten more used to it since I’ve been training with him, but sometimes I have to catch myself before I say something. He already thinks I’m losing it.” Viktor leans back on his hands.

Yuuri copies him, unconsciously turning his body towards Viktor and letting his pinky touch Viktor’s as he leans back. “Phichit’s called me crazy a few times because I maybe kinda accidentally told him Tony Stark will die in the MCU.”

“Yuuri!”

“I know!” Yuuri laughs, “It just slipped out. He doesn’t believe me.”

“Can you blame him?”

“No. He might believe it when I tell him about the time travel thing though.”

Viktor looks at him, considering, “How do you plan on telling him?”

“I’m not sure yet. Though I know that when I do tell him, I want you to be there too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, might make it more plausible.”

“I’ll be there. Just tell me when.”

Yuuri nods, turning his attention back to the competition. As one skater steps off, Yura steps on. “YURA DAVAI!” Yuuri and Viktor holler at the same time, laughing at the surprised look of disgust on the young skater’s face.

He skates beautifully, even if he’s not yet at his full potential. Watching him gets Yuuri thinking. He’s really not sure how much time they have here, but he hopes it’s enough to be able to fully milk out their skating careers. He’s scared to go back to their time and find out he can’t ever step foot on the ice again. 

He focuses back on Yura, pushing his thoughts aside for later. Now is not the time. Yura executes a beautiful step sequence, and Yuuri claps as Viktor smiles. As he strikes his final pose, Viktor and Yuuri stand, clapping and shouting their pride. Yura looks up at them and scowls, no doubt embarrassed by their behavior. When he turns his attention away from them to go with Yakov to the kiss and cry, the two make their way to the hallways so they can greet the junior -soon to be- gold medalist on a more personal level. 

“Yura!” Viktor exclaims, throwing his arms around the teenager as soon as he sees him.

“Get the fuck off me!” Yuri shoves at Viktor, scowling at the older man.

Yuuri watches on bemusedly, raising his eyebrows when his husband looks over at him with a pout on his face. “Well what did you expect?”

Viktor starts to reach for Yuuri, but thinks better of his actions. There’s too many journalists allowed back here. “I expected my son to accept my love.”

Yura sputters, turning to Viktor with wide eyes, “The fuck do you mean _your son_?”

“Vitya.” Yuuri says softly, shaking his head.

“Oh.” Viktor deflates, then perks right up again. Yuuri hates the smile he’s plastered on his face, “Right. Anyways, you did great with your program! You’ll get the gold for sure.”

Yura, at the very least, let go of the _son_ comment, and scoffs. “Of course I’ll get gold. No one will beat me and when I get to seniors I’ll beat everyone’s ass.”

“Otabek Altin might beat you when you get to seniors though.” Yuuri says, sticking his index finger on his lips thoughtfully.

“The fuck did you say pig? Ota- who?”

“Otabek Altin. You know, the cute guy from Kazakhstan.”

“I have no idea who that is.”

“You know Yura,” Viktor says, “you may want to play nice.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh!” Viktor exclaims, undeterred, “We need to arrange for Makka and Potya to see each other! Makka misses her.”

“The fuck you mean your dog misses my cat? They’ve never met!”

Viktor’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline, surprise etched into his face. “I thought they’ve already met?” It comes out as more of a question than a statement. Yuuri sets his hand on Viktor’s shoulder and pats reassuringly.

“Whatever, geezer.” Yura spits.

“Careful Yura.” Yuuri warns, moving his hand to the small of Viktor’s back. 

“Of what Pig? Why are you even talking to me?”

“Because I know you’ll do great things.” 

“Whatever. I’ll debut in seniors next year and kick your ass especially. Only one Yuri is allowed on the ice.” He pushes between them, forcing Yuuri to take his hand off Viktor and step away from him. They watch as the angry teenager stalks towards the changing rooms, both left stunned silent until he’s out of sight.

They turn to each other then and start laughing, clutching at each other to try and stay upright. “I forgot how _angry_ he was at this age.” Viktor says, wiping tears from his eyes, straightening his back.

“I know!” Yuuri chuckles, shaking his head. “Really makes you appreciate how much he’s matured.”

“It’s so easy to forget when we’re all together.” Viktor says, sobering up.

“Yeah,” Yuuri agrees solemnly, walking alongside Viktor as they make their way out of the arena. “I know what you mean.” He doesn’t dare reach out to touch his husband. Too many cameras are around and they’ve already dodged two reporters before they could be seen. Logically, he knows they should go their separate ways to get back to the hotel, but he doesn’t think he can leave Viktor’s side for that long. The overwhelming emotions storming inside him have him reaching for his lover’s hand before he can think. He stops himself midway, quickly pulling the appendage to his side before anyone could catch him. 

Chatter fills the air around them, the sound of flashing cameras mixing in with people’s voices. Someone spots Viktor, and suddenly everyone’s making a beeline for them. They barely give Yuuri a second glance, far too concerned about the living legend beside him. 

“Mr. Nikiforov!” A voice in the sea of people calls, “It’s been rumored that you have a secret lover. Are they a fellow skater?”

“Mr. Nikiforov!” Another voice demands attention, “Will your secret lover be watching you skate in the stands?”

Viktor stops, and Yuuri nearly does too, but decides against it. It’d beg too many questions from the nosy journalists. He pushes through the crowd of people that’s gathered, his body aching now that Viktor is no longer beside him. This isn’t like their time, when they could have their arms around each other and kiss and not stir a thousand unwanted stories from the media. As he trudges towards the door, he hears Viktor speak, and smiles a little to himself. He loves his husband. “I’m sorry, but I am not open to questions at this time. Please direct your questions to the junior skaters and their coaches.This is their competition, not mine.”

Yuuri makes his way outside as an uproar of protests comes from Viktor’s statement. The cold and crisp air surrounds him and makes him shiver. Unlike when they went to practice, he actually has adequate clothes for the weather, and as a strong gust of wind blows past him, he pulls his clothes tighter around him while wrapping his arms around himself. He sighs, his breath becoming visible in front of him. He turns back to look at the arena, memories crashing down around him.

He turns sharply, making quick steps towards the hotel. Years ago, when he first stepped and performed in that arena, Mari called and told him Vicchan died. Years ago, he performed in his first Grand Prix Final and royally fucked it up. Years ago, his idol turned husband asked for a commemorative photo. They say to never meet your favorite celebrities, that they’ll only crush the painted picture you have of them and destroy your hopes and dreams…at least Viktor was different.

He barely notices as he steps into the hotel, his thoughts swirling around and submerging him into a pit of despair. A large hand claps down on his shoulder, startling him. “Yuuri!” Celestino exclaims, far too bright and happy. “There you are!”

“Uhh…” He’s not sure what to say. How is he supposed to respond to _there you are_ and not sound rude or socially inept? 

“Where have you been all afternoon?” Celestino pulls him off to the side so people can pass by with ease.

“Sightseeing.” Yuuri answers because he can’t lie. He’s just seen a lot more than he’s bargained for today. 

“Sightseeing? That sounds nothing like you?” Celestino raises his eyebrows in question, “Does this have to do with the person Phichit’s mentioned?”

Yuuri’s tired. He wants to go _home_ and crawl into bed and cocoon himself in blankets and drink tea and watch stupid movies to keep his anxiety at bay. “Would it matter if it did?”

Celestino seems surprised by the bite in his tone and takes his hand off him, “No, but you weren’t answering your phone. I didn’t know if you were okay.”

“I left it here at the hotel.” Yuuri hangs his head, guilt eating at him for snapping at his coach.

“It wasn’t in your room.” 

“Oh. It wouldn’t have been in my room.”

“I see.” Celestino says slowly, nodding. “Well, go up and get some rest. You’ll need it.”

Yuuri knows there’s no malice in his coach’s words, but he still can’t help the way they tear him up from the inside. _You’ll need it_ rings in his head as he steps away and makes a beeline for the elevators, slumping against the railing as soon as he gets in. Does his coach have such little faith in him? Has he been a bad student? How much does Celestino resent him for the way he’s been acting up lately? He should sleep alone in his own hotel room to make it easier on the older man. He should, but he won’t, because he can’t possibly separate from Viktor like that. It’s incredibly selfish, but in his fragile state, a night away from the only person who can currently understand him would be detrimental.

The elevator doors open in front of him, and he steps out when someone steps in. As the elevator doors close behind him, he realizes this is not his and Viktor’s floor. Instead of turning around and fixing his mistake like a normal human being, he runs from the embarrassment he’d have to face for stepping off when he didn’t mean to. Pushing open the door to the stairs, he begins his three flight trek, thinking this can serve as some astronomical punishment.

He’s breathing heavy, and honestly close to tears by the time he gets to the right floor. He uses the weight of his body to push the door to the room open, unable to muster any strength in his arms. The light is on when he drags his feet in, the door slamming shut behind him. Within seconds Viktor’s in front of him, the bounce in his step dying quickly at the sight of Yuuri. He rushes forward, his hand rising up to cup Yuuri’s cheek.

“Solnyshko,” He breathes, thumb rubbing over Yuuri’s cheek, “what’s the matter?”

Yuuri just shakes his head, falling into Viktor's arms. He can’t hold his own weight anymore. Viktor gathers him in his arms, picking him up and carrying him to the bed wordlessly. He silently helps Yuuri out of his clothes and into something much more comfortable: his favorite sweater of Viktor’s and a loose pair of sweatpants. He turns all the lights off then helps Yuuri settle into bed, coming around to join him under the covers seconds later.

“Do you want me to hold you?” He asks quietly, turning towards Yuuri.

In answer, Yuuri pulls every bit of energy he has left to curl against Viktor. His legs wrap around his husband's hips, and his arms circle around his chest tightly. He tucks his head under Viktor’s chin, instantly relaxing against him. He distantly hears Viktor say something, but he’s already falling asleep.

When Yuuri wakes, it’s still dark out. He’s not sure what time it is, but he’s got a dull headache and doesn’t feel inclined to search for his phone. Sometime during the night, he and Viktor detangled, leaving him cold and empty. He rolls over and lifts his hand, relentlessly, but gently, poking Viktor’s back.

It’s not until Viktor mumbles a tired “Yuuri?” and turns onto his back and looks at him that he stops poking him.

“I just woke up and wanted you.” Yuuri mumbles, immediately latching onto his husband.

Viktor envelops him in his arms, “How are you feeling?”

“Sad.” Yuuri answers honestly. He has nothing to hide, no reason to feel ashamed. While he’s in this room, with Viktor, he can be open and honest. He lets his head fall to Viktor’s chest.

Viktor’s hand starts moving up and down his back, moving in soothing motions, “Is it about earlier?”

“Kind of? It’s a little bit of everything, I think.” 

“What do you need me to do?”

“Just hold me.”

Viktor’s arms marginally tighten around him. They say nothing more as the night washes over the room. Yuuri listens to Viktor’s heart beat steadily under his ear, letting the sound ground him. At some point his hand slows on Yuuri’s back until it completely stops. Yuuri thinks he’s fallen asleep again, but then his voice breaches the silence. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Yuuri replies, whispering.

When sleep finally drags him back into its clutches, his thoughts are on nothing else but Viktor’s words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the interactions between Viktor, Yuuri, and Yuri were suggested by [MSupernatural](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MSupernatural/pseuds/MSupernatural) and other's inspired by a friend. I'm sorry this chapter took forever, I'm afraid I've had no time this past week to get something solid. It is on the shorter side, but the next chapter will likely be long enough to make up for it. It will definitely be a rollercoaster :D Also, I have decided to make this work into a series where I will post one shots of in between moments we won't see in this fic. I wanted to post a chapter to let you all know to look out for those before I did anything with it. I really look forward to your guys' comments and thank you so much for reading and for being patient with me 💞


	8. Chaotic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri skate their short programs and afterwards, Viktor gets a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that towards the end there is some brief explicit content

Stepping onto the ice, Viktor launches into his warm up routine. He and Yuuri aren’t in the same block, but Yuuri’s standing off to the side, leaning against the boards where Viktor had stood while Yuuri practiced. It’s reassuring to see his husband there, watching. Chris comes up next to him as he skates around the rink.

“You keep making eyes at Katsuki.” Chris observes.

“He’s my type.” Viktor chuckles, glancing at Chris. He slows his movements as he nears his wonderful husband.

“Well I can see that.” Chris laughs, “Did you see his skating earlier? I think I might have to watch out.”

“Yes, I think you will.” Viktor murmurs, resting his index finger on his lips in thought. He smiles at Yuuri as he passes, gaining speed once he is no longer in sight. “And so will I.”

“Do you have plans later? I was thinking about grabbing something to eat.” 

“Sorry Chris, but I already promised Yuuri I’d eat with him.” A twinge of guilt starts eating away at Viktor’s mind for blowing off his friend. He’s sure Chris would understand his reasons, but they really aren’t close enough in this timeline yet to explain the circumstances. A wave of sadness washes over him, nearly consuming him. He misses being able to talk to his best friend.

“You’ve really been spending a lot of time with him lately.” Chris comments. 

“I’ve been trying to. We’ve got a lot of missed time to make up for after all.” Again, Viktor slows as he approaches Yuuri. If this wasn’t so public, he’d stop and talk to his husband, but this practice will be televised. He’ll just compromise with slow movements. He should definitely start practicing jumps now, but a few more laps around won’t hurt anyone but Yakov.

“Making up to do?” Chris asks, confused.

“It’s hard to explain.” Viktor tells him, “We’ve just been apart for far too long.”

“Right...well, is he any better than the other person you’ve been seeing?”

“What other person?” Viktor frowns. He can’t remember seeing anyone other than Yuuri. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot.” Chris gasps.

“Forgot what?”

“You know, that guy from the club we went to after Worlds. What was his name...Danny?” 

“I literally have no idea who that is.” Viktor says, halfheartedly trying to recall who Chris is talking about. He can’t. Not even the name sounds familiar. He’s married now, so remembering some random dude he might have had a fling with is pointless.

“Damn. If I had known you’d just forget him I wouldn’t have set you up with him. I would have kept him all to myself. Well, anyways, let me know when you’re free.” Chris pats Viktor’s shoulder, a knowing smirk on his face. 

“Will do.” Viktor replies, watching as Chris skates off to do his own practice. Viktor proceeds to do a couple more laps around the rink, much to Yakov’s dismay and Yuuri’s amusement. After hearing Yakov yell one too many times, Viktor gets a little more serious in his practice. He goes through an abridged version of his short program and when practice is over, listens to Yakov’s admonitions apathetically.

* * *

Viktor stands behind the boards, watching Yuuri skate to the center of the ice. He’s breathtaking. His costume is monochrome, with black flames outlined in silver dancing all around his abdomen and trailing down his arms. He’s gorgeous. Viktor can’t look away, especially when the music cues and Yuuri starts to move.

Viktor is immediately entranced, barely able to stand on his own two feet. He leans against the boards for support, wondering why he didn’t watch Yuuri skate the first time around. His past self was an idiot to pass this up. Yuuri touches down after a quad salchow, and Viktor files the mistake for later, when he can talk to Yuuri as a coach. He’s sure the mess up is because Yuuri doesn’t have muscle memory in his favor. He bounces right back up, continuing with his routine as if nothing happened. He doesn’t self-destruct, like he might have before, and Viktor feels a surge of pride in his chest. His husband has come so far.

The end of Yuuri’s short program nears, and Viktor mourns the end of his routine. Yuuri goes into a flying sit spin, stopping just as the music does, his hands reaching out to Viktor, as though he is presenting his heart to him. Viktor smiles fondly, gripping the edge of the boards so he doesn’t run to Yuuri.

Dozens of various plushies fly onto the ice for Yuuri to pick up. He bends to pluck one of the poodle plushies clutching it to his chest as he makes his way towards the exit. Viktor can hear Celestino’s praises even from where he’s standing and cringes. That man has such a loud voice…

Viktor nears the kiss and cry, trying to act natural as the arena waits with bated breath for Yuuri’s scores. He gets a 94.32, a new personal best for him in this timeline. Viktor grins, another burst of pride surging through him.

He meets Yuuri’s eyes, sparkling with an unspoken challenge, and smirks. Yuuri just raises an eyebrow, returning his smirk with one of his own. Celestino pulls Yuuri away, exclamations of disbelief falling from his tongue as the media surrounds them. Viktor turns, not giving the next skater attention as he walks. He needs to warm up if he’s going to beat his husband.

In the hallway, he starts going through his routine. He’s very aware of the camera on him and he can see the people around him are itching to ask questions. It’s probably all related to Yuuri and what he thinks of his _competition_ , and while Viktor would absolutely love to proclaim how amazing the Japanese skater did, he needs to be ready to kick Yuuri’s ass.

Yakov interrupts him to tell him it’s time to go out. Chris is about halfway through his notoriously sexual routine when he nears the ice. Viktor nods to himself, determination coursing through his veins. He waits patiently as Chris finishes the routine, blowing kisses to the crowd and collecting flowers. 

Yakov stays silent as Viktor hands him his skate guards, having finally been given the all clear to step onto the ice. He skates to the middle and as soon as the music cues, he’s off. He doesn’t like this particular program. It’s about love and betrayal, meant to contrast the longing in his Free Skate, but he just can’t channel the emotions like he used to. Yuuri has never betrayed him. He’s been surrounded by consistent love for years. Their love has never wavered, and now he’s expected to skate like it has.

He finds that he can’t do it. He’s never been able to do it. He’s tried in the qualifiers, but each time he’s lost presentation points because he looks constipated while attempting to act hurt by the love of his life. His technical scores have been amazing, but for the first time in his career, the performance brings him down. Not that he truly minds. He’ll come out on top no matter what.

His performance comes to an end with a combination spin. His eyes search the perimeter of the ice to find Yuuri, grinning when he does. All sorts of things fly around him as the audience cheers. He can hear the commentators speak about how his performance was breathtaking, but that it seemed he broke character towards the end.

Viktor steps off the ice with stuffed animals tucked under his arms, breathing heavily. Yakov hands him his skate guards, launching into a tirade about the flaws in his performance. His last step sequence becomes his coach’s main interest, droning on and on about how he needs to work on his presentation. Yakov finishes by asking how he can be so great if he can’t present properly, but Viktor waves him off. It’s not like he can verbally blame a certain skater for his inability to reign in his emotions.

Walking to the kiss and cry, he smiles and nods at people he passes, particularly paying attention to the Japanese skater hovering a little too close to the area, just barely out of the camera's frame. Viktor gives him a small wave and a soft smile, and Japan’s Ace mirrors his actions. Viktor’s attention gets pulled away when Yakov yanks on the back of his jacket, forcing him to sit and get his scores.

His score appears moments later, a 94.28. There seems to be a collective gasp from the audience, as the score places him behind none other than one Yuuri Katsuki. He frowns at the lack of their joint last name (he desperately misses seeing _Katsuki-Nikiforov_ be displayed), and the spectators seem to take it as him being upset with coming in second, stuttering through their words to explain what’s just happened. Yakov blows up, as expected, but Viktor pushes away his concerns. He looks over at his husband to see him smirking. _Oh_ , Viktor thinks, _I am so going to wipe away that smirk._

Now that he’s received his score, he pushes himself off the bench and makes his way to the waiting reporters. They’re all eager to get his opinion on being in second for the first time in years. 

“Mr. Nikiforov!” a woman calls, “Can you comment on why you think you’ve been pushed back to second place?”

Viktor looks at her, as if he’s considering her question. There’s no doubt why he’s in second, but he can’t explain it to them. “Yuuri Katsuki is a skilled skater, and I am honored to compete against him.” He answers, “However, I am confident I will take back first place.” After all, he’s not going to let Yuuri win their bet. 

“How do you plan to take back your position?” Another reporter asks.

“By skating to the best of my abilities.”

“What happens if Mr. Katsuki takes gold?” Viktor recognizes this reporter. He’s been a big fan of Yuuri’s for as long as he can remember. Moroomba? Morka? Ah, Morooka. 

“Then I will be very privileged to stand next to him with a silver medal.” Viktor comments, pushing through the crowd of gossip mongers to the skaters only area. 

As soon as the doors close off the public, his eyes find Yuuri. Yuuri, who is leaning nonchalantly against the wall, watching the announcers speak about the competition on the large flat screen TV. Viktor immediately stalks towards him, garnering the attention of everyone in the vicinity. His husband turns towards him, raising an eyebrow, and standing a little straighter in anticipation.

“Viktor!” Yakov yells, but he ignores his coach. He comes to stand directly in front of Yuuri, intently staring him down. The air around them is charged, buzzing with electricity as Yuuri challenges him with his gaze. “Viktor don’t you dare hurt Katsuki!” Yakov bellows.

Viktor scoffs. Hurt him? Oh no. That’s not what he has planned at all. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him, waiting for him to make his move. He’s sure they’re all expecting him to be pissed, but rather, instead of spouting insults for taking first place, Viktor merely breathes “I’m proud of you Solnyshko.” His hands fly to Yuuri’s face, tilting his head up as Viktor crashes his lips against his husbands.

Yuuri’s hands come to rest on his hips, lips moving against Viktor’s with a feverish passion. Viktor pushes him into the wall, his hands moving into Yuuri’s hair. Right now, the world is just them, everyone else be damned. Yuuri’s lips part, and Viktor accepts the invitation to slip his tongue inside. He can barely hold back a groan of pleasure when Yuuri’s tongue meets his. 

A very loud cough to Viktor’s right forces him to end his kiss with Yuuri. They break apart, bursting into laughter as though they hadn’t just had a very passionate (albeit brief) make out session. Viktor turns to see who interrupted them, and honestly he should’ve known it was Yakov. “Yakov!” he says cheerily, still rather dazed from the kiss, “Isn’t my Yuuri so amazing?”

Yuuri turns red, resting his forehead on Viktor's shoulder as he tries to hide his embarrassment. “Vitya…” he whines, lightly hitting Viktor’s chest.

“He skated so beautifully, don’t you think?” Viktor continues, his arm coming around his husband’s shoulders. 

“Viktor I hardly think this is the time to be praising a competitor.” Yakov’s voice is dangerously low, and Viktor knows he’ll explode any second. Celestino appears behind Yakov, and Viktor takes this opportunity to lower the older man’s blood pressure.

“Celestino!” Viktor greets, “It’s good to see you!”

“Likewise.” Celestino replies warily. His attention turns to Yuuri, “Yuuri, we need to head back to the hotel so you can get some rest.”

Yuuri lifts his head from Viktor’s shoulder to look at Celestino, “Oh. Okay. I’ll get ready to leave then.” He steps away from Viktor, causing the Russian to pout and attempt to grab onto Yuuri’s hand. 

Viktor watches helplessly as his husband walks away, Yakov taking this opportunity to pull Viktor off to the side. “We need to have a talk.” He says.

“Later.” Viktor smiles despite knowing he can’t charm his way with his coach, “I have some things to take care of.” He starts walking in the opposite direction his coach was taking him, feeling only a little guilty as his coach’s sputters grow quieter. 

Viktor walks down the hallway, not entirely sure why he chose this direction to go. He makes it about a minute down the corridor before coming upon an older couple. He stops in his tracks, spinning on his heels as dread pools in his gut. But it’s too late. “Viktor!”

He stops in his tracks, taking a deep breath before turning to face the woman who spoke. His mother rushes forward, hugging him tightly. He’s frozen to the spot, unable to move or say anything. His father comes up behind to her, and mercifully doesn’t touch him. “I’m so happy we could catch you!” She steps back, grinning widely.

Viktor’s mouth goes dry. He doesn’t know what to say. Why are they here? How did they get into the skaters only section? They shouldn’t have the required passes...He stares unseeingly ahead, his breathing becoming labored as his heart pounds erratically. His palms start getting clammy, and he has to clench his fists to the side to keep from exploding. He doesn’t want to see them. He doesn’t want to talk to them. He needs to get out of here, but he can’t. His father fixes him with a stare, one that sends a shiver down Viktor’s back. Nothing good has ever come from that look. Far too many repressed memories of his childhood come to the forefront of his mind.

Just as he thinks he’s going to lose it, a miracle occurs. Yuuri rounds the corner, texting on his phone and not paying any bit of attention to where he’s going. He bumps into Viktor’s father’s back, barely looking up and mumbling an apology. He moves to continue on, only stopping to whip his head up from his phone again and look between the two elders until finally, his eyes lock onto Viktor’s. 

“I was just about to call you.” Yuuri says, moving to Viktor’s side. “You weren’t spamming me about how boring Yakov’s lectures were, and I got worried.”

“I got a little caught up in something.” Viktor replies, a weight he didn’t know had fallen onto him lifting off his shoulders.

“Viktor, can we go somewhere private?” His father interjects, shifting from side to side.

“We are somewhere private.” Viktor tells him.

“I mean somewhere where other people can’t listen.” He looks pointedly at Yuuri.

Viktor wraps his arm around Yuuri’s waist, pulling him in close. “I don’t think my husband can be considered _other people_.”

Viktor watches his parents’ eyes widen, “What happened to Maria?”

“Oh you mean the girl that stole Viktor’s medals and nearly sold them?” Yuuri raises an eyebrow, “She’s been gone for years.” 

“You can’t be married.” His mother says, “We never got an invitation.”

“Yes, we did that on purpose.” Yuuri unapologetically informs, his own arm wrapping around Viktor.

“Why did you come here?” Viktor asks, finally voicing the question burning on his tongue.

“We need your help.” His mother says, stepping forward. Viktor steps back.

“No.”

“But your father is dying!” 

Viktor glances at the older man, “I’m not a doctor.”

“No, but you have money.” His father says.

“Alexei,” Yuuri positions himself so that he’s standing in front of Viktor, “you cut your child off, never spoke to him for years, and now you dare ask for money?”

“Please, we need to get him treatment.”

“Ivanna,” Yuuri directs his cold stare to her, “what makes you think you have the right to ask for money?”

She stares at Yuuri, appalled. Her gaze turns to Viktor, desperate, “I’m sorry. I know we were horrible parents, but please, help us.”

“No.” Viktor says, steadfast. “I know you have plenty of money. I have given you more than I should have before, and I am done now.”

“But Viktor!” she protests. Her pleas fall on deaf ears as Viktor walks away from them, Yuuri not once leaving his side. At least, not until they turn into a densely populated hallway. They break apart, Viktor feeling like his arm has been ripped off as he lets go of his husband. Yuuri falls back behind him, glancing around as if making sure Viktor’s parents are nowhere to be seen.

They don’t bother grabbing their things from the locker room. They’ll be there tomorrow and if not, then their coaches will have gotten it all. Viktor makes a mental note to talk to Yakov about the arena’s security and inquire about how his parents got in. It’s not fair. Surely this can’t be the original timeline. The first time he lived through these events his parents never made an appearance. They were as good as strangers to him.

Viktor shivers as they walk out into the night, the freezing air hitting his exposed skin. It spurs him on to walk faster, almost running to escape the general public pointing at him, to get distance from where he left his parents. Yuuri is a constant beside him, even as he’s sprinting back to the hotel.

He pushes his way into the building, only pausing to hold the door open for his beloved husband. Yuuri smiles at him, a small feature that makes his world shine a little brighter. He reaches to grab Yuuri’s hand, but remembers they’re still in a very public area where they’re easily recognizable and stops himself. It pains him to have to hide his love. If he didn’t know it’d cause a shitstorm and probably hurt Yuuri’s public image, Viktor would’ve thrown caution to the wind already. As it is, he’s only been able to act on his love while around other skaters, and even that has been on the down low.

He’s restless as they squeeze into an elevator with an elderly couple. He can’t stop bouncing and keeps having to catch himself from reaching out to Yuuri. He looks down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs and picking underneath his nails for some kind of distraction. He glances around the small, confining space, frequently looking towards the elderly couple. Before all this happened, he used to think that one day he and Yuuri would be the elderly couple people coo over, but now he’s not so sure what will happen. It’s terrifying.

The elevator stops a floor too early, and the couple steps out. Viktor’s tired of being around people, of having to constantly step into elevators where strangers seem to live, waiting for him to step in. 

Before the doors can finish closing, Yuuri steps in front of him, taking his hands. “Vitya, it’ll do you no good if you keep picking at your fingernails. You’ll only end up bleeding.”

“Oh.” Viktor says, dumbly, “I hadn’t realized I was doing that…”

Yuuri brings Viktor’s hands up to his lips, kissing the pads of his fingers, “It’s okay.” The elevator comes to a final stop, and Yuuri pulls Viktor out of the daunting contraption. ”How are you feeling?”

“Do you think I was right?” Viktor asks, watching Yuuri take his wallet out, scrambling to get the room key with one hand. Viktor reaches out, plucking out the plastic with deft fingers. He swipes the card, handing it back to Yuuri once inside the room.

“It’s hard to say,” Yuuri says thoughtfully, “but I think you did good. They’ve abused their parental status far too many times to be redeemed.”

“So you don’t think it’s wrong?” Viktor asks, sitting on the bed. Yuuri stands in front of him, their knees touching. Viktor unconsciously opens his legs and Yuuri steps closer, letting go of his hand in favor of cupping Viktor’s cheeks. Viktor stares at him through his eyelashes, soaking in the love radiating from Yuuri.

“Do _you_ think it’s wrong?” Yuuri counters, running his thumbs along Viktor’s cheeks.

“I don’t know what I think.” Viktor confesses, sighing. He leans forward and rests his forehead against Yuuri’s sternum. Yuuri’s hands slide to his back.

“This might sound callous, but Alexei is going to die regardless of whether or not you give them money.” His husband’s hands now rub circles into his back, causing a soft sigh to escape from Viktor’s lips.

“You’re right. They didn’t bother to tell me what he’s dying of too.” Viktor mumbles, his hands settling on the back of Yuuri’s thighs.

“They didn’t?” Yuuri sounds surprised, “I thought they had explained it all before I came. That sounds really suspicious.”

“I know...but he’s still my dad and I just- I don’t know.”

“I’ll support you in whatever you decide, but I think it’s best if you ignore them. The more attention you give, the worse they’ll get.”

“And if he dies?”

“Then we’ll deal with it when the time comes. For now, let’s get showered and ready for bed.”

“Okay.” Viktor lets Yuuri pull him up, chuckling when Yuuri backs himself into the doorframe of the bathroom.

* * *

Showering is a quick affair, and Yuuri makes sure to have a hand on Viktor at all times. As they towel off, Yuuri mentally sorts through different ways he knows will make Viktor happy. There’s cuddling and watching a movie, cuddling and having a Who Can Find the Weirdest Gif Contest, making out (which will inevitably lead to making love), going out on a walk (which Yuuri immediately rules out because Makkachin isn’t with them and it’s too cold), and a plethora of other things they could do. 

But...as Yuuri lays on his side, his hand trailing along Viktor’s face, an idea pops into his head. He’s never done this before, and he can already feel the embarrassment rising in his chest, but he’ll do it. He knows for a fact it will make Viktor smile and laugh. He takes a deep breath. Well, here goes nothing...

“How about I read you some of my old fanfiction? The unpublished stuff?” Yuuri suggests, breaking the silence that’s fallen over them. He pushes himself into a sitting position. 

Viktor sits up immediately, bringing his face close to Yuuri’s, “You have more?” He asks eagerly.

“Only if you promise to never tell a soul. Not even Phichit has seen this stuff.” Yuuri gives him a pointed look.

Viktor places his hand over his heart, “I solemnly swear I will never tell a soul.”

“Okay…” Yuuri grabs his phone and unlocks it, pulling up his Wattpad drafts. He blanches just from looking at his old works. “Prepare yourself. This is going to be one hell of an experience.”

“I can’t wait.” Viktor says, crossing his legs.

Yuuri takes a deep breath, “ _Viktor and I walk hand in hand. His hand is bigger than mine, but it feels like our hands were made for each other. We were made for each other_. Oh my gosh.” Yuuri groans, bringing his phone to his forehead as he cringes.

“No keep going.” Viktor urges, leaning forward.

“ _We’re walking through a zoo. There’s many different animals here but it’s hard to concentrate when Viktor is standing so close to me. A fan of his comes up to us and asks for an autograph. I have to fight to keep myself from telling her off. Viktor is mine not hers._ Good fuck why did I write this?” Yuuri pauses again, “Already it’s so bad and the grammar is nonexistent. Okay okay, I can do this. _Viktor grins and lets go of my hand to take the paper the girl holds out. ‘I loved your free skate at Rostelecom.’ she tells him. I roll my eyes. Everyone loved that skate. She’s not special. Viktor thanks her for watching and I fight the urge to punch her._ Damn.”

“Awww Yuuri,” Viktor coos, “you were so crudely jealous. It’s embarrassingly adorable.”

“You would think that.” Yuuri shakes his head, “But you’re the most biased listener.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It totally does. You only like it because I wrote it. But anyways… _The girl walks away, jumping with glee, and I glare daggers at her retreating form. Viktor doesn’t seem to have noticed, far too interested in the tigers playing in front of us. It’s a good thing. I don’t want him to know how jealous I am. If he finds out about it he could leave._ Good grief. _I push those thoughts away. Viktor pulls me along, pointing out each animal we pass. It’s cute. He’s cute. I can’t believe I’m dating him._ ”

“Can you believe it now?” Viktor cuts in.

“Believe what now?” Yuuri asks, confused.

“That you’ve dated and married me.”

“Yeah. I started believing it the moment you knocked yourself off the pedestal I put you on.”

“The moment I knocked myself off?”

“Mhmm.” Yuuri nods, reading through the fanfiction again before Viktor can say anything more. “ _After going through the entire zoo, we go to the movies. He picks out the movie but I don’t pay attention to it which is strange because I love superhero movies. I watch Viktor instead only looking away when he looks at me. Does he know how in love I am? Does he feel the same way?_ ”

After a while, Viktor gets up and brings over a bottle of water for Yuuri. Yuuri takes it gratefully, his heart warming at the small gesture. To think, Viktor knows him well enough to be able to tell when his throat starts to hurt from too much reading. Wow. It’s worth the pain though. He’ll endure all sorts of pain for his beloved. He gulps down a few sips of water before reading again.

“ _We end up going back to Viktor’s apartment where as soon as we’re inside Viktor pushes me against the wall and kisses me aggressively. I try to match his tempo but I’m too surprised to properly move. It’s no matter, Viktor guides me to his bedroom lips locked with mine. I start pushing off his jacket and he takes my shirt off. Both items fall to the floor of the hallway. I feel self conscious, but Viktor’s lips are unrelenting. When we make it to the bedroom, I take my pants off and lay bare on the bed. Viktor looms over me, and I reach for-_ ”

“Oh dear fuck.” Yuuri pauses, warily glancing at Viktor. 

“What? What is it?” Viktor asks, curious.

“ _His cock springs out of the underwear and I have to stop and stare. He has a handsome dick. It’s the best dick I have ever laid my eyes on._ ”

Viktor falls onto his back, howling with laughter. Yuuri just sits there, staring ahead blankly. He cannot believe he wrote such a thing. Though it’s making Viktor laugh beautifully, and that alone takes the edge off his embarrassment (but seriously, why? What inspired such sentences?). He waits patiently for his husband to collect himself, reading ahead to make sure there’s no more embarrassing quotes. There’s some, but none are as bad as the handsomest dick comment.

“Oh my gosh, Yuuri,” Viktor wipes at his eyes, snickering as he sits up, “do I really have the handsomest dick you have ever seen?”

Oh what the hell? He can boost his husband’s ego a little. “Yes.”

That sends Viktor into another fit of laughter, and it takes him a minute to be able to form a reply, “Do you want to see my oh so handsome dick?”

“Later,” Yuuri tells him, “unless you want me to stop reading?”

“Oh no. It’s getting _juicy_.”

“I can’t believe you.” Yuuri sets his phone down for a second, preparing himself for what comes next. “ _Suddenly Viktor’s mouth is on mine and his tongue makes it way inside my mouth. His touch is hot but I can’t get enough. His hand travels down my body but doesn’t touch where I need it most. I try to get him to move his hand but he refuses to touch. ‘Viktor’ I whine, breath hitching. He smirks against my lips and moves his hand just above my most sensitive organ._ ”

“So masochistic of me, Yuuri.” Viktor snickers.

“You only wish.” Yuuri shoots back, “Let me finish, it’s almost over.”

“Hehe I’ll let you finish alright.”

“Viktor!”

“Please, continue.”

“ _I push my hips up and finally, his hand touches my cock. I moan,_ Okay y’know what? I can’t finish this.”

“But Yuuri~!” Viktor protests, “We were just getting to the _climax!_ ”

“Oh my gosh.” Yuuri hides his face in his hands, tossing his phone off the bed. He can’t take this anymore. At least he tried. 

“Are we really done?” 

“Yes.” Yuuri straightens his back and looks Viktor in the eye, “I’d much rather you just fuck me than read about my sixteen year old cringe anyways.”

Viktor raises an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“And if I keep reading, it’s not happening.” Yuuri admits.

“Well then in that case,” Viktor reaches out, cupping Yuuri’s cheek, “we better get started.”

Yuuri leans into Viktor’s touch, closing his eyes at the gentle strokes of his thumbs. Viktor’s lips meet his just seconds later, softly kissing him. Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor’s neck, returning the kiss. Viktor carefully pushes him onto his back, fitting himself between Yuuri’s legs. This is much better than the fantasies he had as a teenager and young adult, he thinks. Later, he’s reminded of just how handsome Viktor’s dick is (as if he could ever forget).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's costume and score for this were both inspired by Yuzuru Hanyu with his costume kinda modeled after Yuzuru's Helsinki 2018 and the scores from the 2014 GPF. This chapter was pretty fun to write, and there'll definitely be some little scenes from this chapter that I'll post as one shots in the future. I've got a lot of WIPs for Victuuri and I can't wait to share them! Next week, we'll find out who wins the bet 👀 I look forward to seeing all of your comments! They're the best part of my day 💞 Thank you so much for reading!


	9. Stay Close to Me

Viktor wakes to an incessant pounding on the door. He groans and gets up, barely having the mind to stop and put some sweatpants on. They’re Yuuri’s, he briefly realizes. They sit a little too tight on him and the ends don’t quite reach his ankles. It’s no matter. He’ll only be in them for a few minutes at most. Graciously, Yuuri is still blissfully asleep, having been spared the rude awakening. 

Viktor swipes a hand over his face, groggily reaching for the door handle and pulling the wood open. A red faced Yakov greets him on the other side. “It’s almost noon.” He grumbles, lowering his hand. Viktor’s sure he’s just narrowly escaped being knocked into next week by his coach.

“Is it?” Viktor yawns, scratching at the back of his head. “My bad. Guess we both slept through all the alarms…”

“You know how imperative it is to be punctual for these-” Yakov stops, frowning, “Wait. We?” 

“Yes, Yu-” Viktor gets cut off by Yakov pushing into the room and Yuuri waking up.

“Vitya…” Yuuri whines, “get your ass back to bed.”

Viktor chuckles, letting the door fall shut to stand next to his coach. He watches Yuuri’s hand search around the bed, his heart swelling at the sight. “I’ll be right there, Solnyshko.” He promises.

Yuuri grunts, finding Viktor’s pillow and bringing it to his chest. Viktor has to lean against the wall, his knees giving out on him as he watches his husband be so damn adorable. 

“Guess I’ll have to text Cialdini not to worry.” Yakov mutters, rounding on Viktor. “You need to stop.”

“Stop what?” Viktor asks dumbly. 

“Stop fraternizing with the enemy.”

“Who’s an enemy?”

“Viktor…” Yakov pinches the bridge of his nose, “You can’t just go around sleeping with the competition. I know you think you’re all that-”

Viktor cuts him off, “Yuuri’s not an enemy. He’s my husband.”

“You’ve never even met him before this competition!” 

“It might be hard to believe, but I’ve known him for a decade, Yakov.” Viktor states calmly, looking over to his husband.

“A decade? Vitya you barely talked to anyone a decade ago.”

“A decade.” Viktor confirms, walking to sit on the edge of the bed next to Yuuri. His husband turns, letting go of the pillow in favor of wrapping his arms around Viktor’s thigh. Viktor smiles and runs his hand through Yuuri’s hair.

“Vitya…” Yuuri mumbles, nuzzling his nose into Viktor’s leg.

Viktor chuckles, twirling Yuuri’s hair around his finger. He leans down to whisper in Yuuri’s ear, completely ignoring his coach. “Yuuri it’s time to get up.” 

“No…” He argues, “Let’s stay in bed all day.”

“What about the GPF and our bet?”

“We’re retired. It can wait.”

“Darling, we’re not retired anymore, remember?”

“Then I’ll forfeit.”

“Yuuri!” Viktor whines, “You can’t just forfeit like that!”

“Why not?”

“It’s no fun when I win by default.”

“Well, I’m not getting out of bed until at least ten.”

“About that…” Viktor lets his hand slide to Yuuri’s back, “Yakov says it’s almost noon.”

“What?!” Yuuri shoots up, eyes wide.

“Well, I don’t know for sure. Yakov does have a habit of exaggerating the time.” Viktor gives Yakov a pointed look, “But that’s what he said.”

Yuuri follows Viktor’s gaze, “Oh.” He says, surprised, “Hi Yakov. I didn’t know you were here…”

“The feeling is mutual.” Yakov crosses his arms, “You shouldn’t be dilly dallying around.”

“I suppose we have been a little carefree.” Yuuri admits, “But it’s just so fun being back! Being able to skate competitively again has been wonderful.”

Yakov stares at him like he’s just grown another head, “Viktor has had far too much influence on you. I’ll get Cialdini to come get you.”

“No!” Viktor pulls Yuuri into his chest, the urge to keep his husband by him and protect coming out. “We can handle ourselves, right Zolotse?”

“I promise I’ll have him downstairs in peak performance condition.” Yuuri promises, letting Viktor smother him in his affections.

* * *

The music cues, and Viktor starts his dance on the ice. He’s changed his program since the qualifiers. He’s told no one, not even Yuuri about his plans with this performance. It is entirely their duet, instead of just bits and pieces. But he’s missing his partner, his husband, and so his freeskate is lacking. He performs his lifts with Yuuri in mind, perfectly imagining the feel of him under his hands. When Yuuri is supposed to lift him, he wraps his arms around himself, hunching his shoulders and bending over. He’s vulnerable without his love beside him.

He misses Yuuri. He wants Yuuri beside him, wants to see him everyday. Yuuri, who has brought him so much joy, who continues to bring so much joy. Yuuri, who hates that he puts jam in his tea, but will still make it for him if he just asks. Yuuri, who doesn’t laugh when he mispronounces a word in English or Japanese, but patiently corrects him instead. Yuuri, who so readily shares his embarrassing past as a fanboy just to make him feel better. Yuuri, who transcended time and space with him, not once leaving him alone even if they’re thousands of miles apart.

Yuuri, who should be skating this program beside him. Yuuri, who he can see standing off to the side, covering his mouth. Yuuri, who should never know pain. Yuuri, who this program will always be dedicated to. Yuuri, who he loves with his entire being. Yuuri.

He prays they’ll come out of this ordeal together. _Stay close to me_ , he pleads, begging the universe to not separate them. He’ll never forgive himself if Yuuri goes back to their time, their universe, their life, alone. If the alternative should happen, where he wakes up alone, he’ll never be happy. Tears prickle in his eyes, his heart ripping apart at the thought of Yuuri forced to be alone. 

He longs for Yuuri’s warmth, to have his arms wrapped around him. He craves Yuuri’s gentle caresses, his kisses. He misses the good morning and goodnight touches, the waking up and falling into a routine together. Every night he spends in their bed in St. Petersburg feels so wrong without Yuuri there. The only things they have to communicate are phone calls and texts, but it’ll never be the same. He hungers for the silent communication they share, for the single looks that carry a thousand words and the touches that deliver reassurance without needing to be prompted.

Of course, he and Yuuri have talked a lot over the long distance keeping them apart. Why wouldn’t they? Just because they can’t see each other doesn’t mean they can’t talk. He knows things about his husband that no one else does. Things like the slight slip of grades because Yuuri just can’t be bothered to do assignments for the second time, especially after ten years of no school. Yuuri doesn’t show it, but this time traveling thing has really taken a toll on his mental health. Viktor is so proud of him for being able to get up every day, for pushing on and getting to where he is now. 

He remembers what it felt like having Yuuri torn from his arms as pain shoots through him. He remembers lying on the cold, hard ground, seeing Yuuri only a few feet away. He remembers seeing blood and trying to get to Yuuri. He desperately needs to hold his husband, to know that he’s alright. 

He ends his program by collapsing on his knees, his hands clasped together reaching towards the heavens he prays to. _Please,_ he begs, _let me stay close to him_. He holds his position, not daring to get up quite yet. He knows that if he does he’ll only lose his balance and fall. There, on the ice where millions can see him, he prays, and prays, and prays to stay with Yuuri.

His pleas end when the audience crying his name reaches his ears. He’s surrounded by flowers and plushies, but this time he takes none as he numbly skates to his coach. His eyes search for Yuuri, and finds him on the other side of the arena. He doesn’t even think when he turns to walk in the opposite direction of the kiss and cry, towards Yuuri. A hand grabs onto the back of his costume and yanks him the other way. Yakov grumbles about Viktor needing to be professional and not let false romance get in the way of anything. Overhead, the spectators comment on his freeskate.

“Viktor Nikiforov has just performed a breathtaking piece of his free skate titled, Stammi Vicino. Stammi Vicino translates to Stay Close to Me, and as we just saw, Nikiforov has embodied the theme perfectly. Whoever this program is dedicated to must surely answer Nikiforov.”

Viktor pays them no mind. They aren’t addressing him properly, and therefore he shut them out. Viktor just hopes he can get his scores quickly so he could watch Yuuri’s skate. His score comes a few minutes later, a solid 219.04, putting him in first place. Now, all that’s left is for Yuuri to skate, and they’ll know who won the bet.

As soon as he can, Viktor jumps from the bench and deflects reporters as he makes his way to see Yuuri skate. As he expected, his husband delivers a beautiful performance that completely enthralls him. Viktor can hardly breathe as he watches his husband skate. It’s so different from the first time around, and Viktor is glad. The difficulty has increased and he’s so much more confident in himself. The first time this program shined, justice wasn’t done to it and to see Yuuri execute it flawlessly brings Viktor an insane amount of pride.

Yuuri steps off the ice, grinning at Viktor as he passes to get to the kiss and cry. His score comes out to be 215.78, finalizing Viktor as the gold medalist and Yuuri as the silver. He’s glad. Now that he’s won their bet, he can put a ring back on his husband’s finger.

* * *

Yuuri fidgets in his seat. Viktor sits next to him, but there’s so many cameras flashing and voices talking that he doesn’t know what to do. He’s not bothered that he came in second, Viktor taking first by only a few points, but he is bothered by the reporters' questions. They’re all eager to know why Yuuri came in second and how he feels about gold being taken away from him. Chris is answering a question now, and with each word that comes out of his mouth, a sense of foreboding falls over Yuuri.

“Mr. Katsuki!” one reporter, Morooka it sounds like, calls out, “How do you feel about coming in second place?”

Yuuri startles, quickly trying to come up with a coherent thought in the haze of things. The phrase he’s used for his last years as a competitive skater comes to the forefront of his mind, and without thinking, he speaks. “Well...uh, I’d like to thank my coach and husband for all the support I’ve received.”

The noise in the room comes to a deafening halt, and Yuuri’s not sure why. Everyone’s gaze settles on him, and in the blink of an eye, the room bursts. Shouts of “Mr. Katsuki!” reach him from all directions, each reporter trying to be heard over the other. 

“Mr. Katsuki, when did you get married?”

“Mr. Katsuki, did you say husband?”

“Mr. Katsuki, who is your husband?”

“Mr. Katsuki, is your husband a fellow skater?”

“Mr. Katsuki, if you’re married, why do you not wear a ring?”

“Mr. Katsuki, is your husband here now?”

“Mr. Katsuki!”

The world swims around him, threatening to shut him out and leave him to the mercy of the press. He turns to Viktor, who’s looking at him with a slack jaw and wide eyes, until their gazes lock and Viktor’s features morph into worry. He can’t be here. He needs to get out of this suffocating room. He stands and Viktor follows suit, Chris too after a moment. Before anything more can be said, or done, Yuuri bolts from the room.

He runs until he can’t anymore, pushing his way outside of the arena and out into the cold air. His head moves side to side, trying to get his bearings but failing. The familiar building of the hotel comes into view, so he dashes towards it, comforted by having some semblance of familiarity.

When he reaches the floor his and Viktor’s room is on, he belatedly realizes he has nothing. His phone, wallet, bag, everything, is still at the arena. He slides down the door, bringing his knees to his chest and hiding his face in his arms. People walk by, some even stopping to ask if he’s alright, but he ignores and pushes them all away. They’re all strangers. They won’t help.

Why did he have to say that? Why did he reveal he has a husband? He’s been telling Viktor to keep their marriage a secret for weeks and now he’s gone and blown it. He might as well just scream to the world about their relationship. Who knows what kind of speculations the reporters will start making as soon as the press conference ends. No doubt he’s selfishly taken the attention away from the actual competition and made it about him. _Stupid_.

After some time, a warm presence settles itself next to him on the floor. Instantly, he knows who it is, and lets himself slump against the other person. An arm comes around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. “I brought your things.” Viktor says softly, placing a kiss on the top of his head.

“Thanks.” Yuuri mumbles, touching Viktor’s hand as it rests on his shoulder.

“I left Yakov and Celestino in the bar.” Viktor tells him, “They kept the reporters on track after you left, and Chris and I covered for you.”

Yuuri nods, feeling too drained to talk. He plays with Viktor’s fingers, concentrating on their warmth. He marvels at how easily Viktor lets him mess with his fingers, how pliable they are under his touch.

“You have a few missed calls from your family too. I sent Mari a text saying you’ll talk to them all later after the sixth missed call.” 

“I’ll call them after washing up.” Yuuri mutters, letting go of Viktor’s hand and pushing on his shoulder to stand up. 

Viktor stands too, opening the door to their hotel room and bringing their things in. “Okay. How about I draw you up a bath?”

“Please. Will you join me?” Yuuri asks hesitantly, fidgeting in place.

“Of course, darling.” He responds, a gentle smile gracing his lips. He sets their things down at the end of the bed then walks into the bathroom. Yuuri can hear the sound of the water turning on and Viktor’s voice just barely above the rushing water. 

He’s singing. If Yuuri hadn’t been married to Viktor for close to a decade, he would’ve thought it was to himself, but Yuuri knows better. Viktor’s singing, Stammi Vicino by the sounds of it, because he knows it helps Yuuri calm down. His gentle voice drifts out from the bathroom, and Yuuri sways from the sheer force of his love for the man. He really did marry the perfect human.

He walks into the bathroom after changing out of his costume, leaving it hanging in the closet. Viktor turns and smiles, his hand submerged in the water to test the temperature. “You were singing.” Yuuri comments, taking his glasses off and setting them on the counter.

“I was.” Viktor agrees, taking his hand out of the water and shaking it off. He turns the handle to the right, changing the water to a hotter temperature. “Did I sound any good?”

“Well, you didn’t sound like a dying eel.” 

Viktor snorts, “Thank you, I try.”

“Go get out of your clothes so we can get in.”

“Yes, my love.”

Yuuri watches a blurry Viktor leave the bathroom. He sits on the edge of the tub, reaching over and turning the water off before it gets so full they’ll spill water everywhere the second they get in. Viktor comes back in a couple minutes later, stepping into the water first. Yuuri goes second, settling himself between Viktor’s legs and resting his back against his chest. Viktor’s arms wrap around him, holding him close. 

“You’re not mad?” Yuuri quietly questions after a few moments of silence passes between them.

“Why would I be?” Viktor asks, nuzzling his nose into Yuuri’s hair.

“I told the press about being married.” 

“That’s okay.” Viktor reassures, “You didn’t tell them anything else, and even if you had, I wouldn’t be angry.”

“But I took the focus off the competition and away from everyone else.” Yuuri tries to protest.

“Honestly the only one who’d be even remotely upset by what you said would be Yura.” 

“Did you see him after the press conference?”

“Yes. I found him in the locker room looking for you.”

“Oh.”

“I’m glad I found you before he did.” Viktor starts tracing small patterns across Yuuri’s stomach, “I pointed him in the wrong direction so he couldn’t find and yell at you. I always did feel bad for letting him out of my sight the first time around.”

“Why?”

“Because he was, or I guess is, temperamental as hell and you just lost Vicchan and the GPF and was definitely not in a state to deal with an angry teenager.”

“It’s okay. His anger helped me get drunk at the banquet anyways.”

“Oh, then maybe I should thank him.”

“You should.” Yuuri takes Viktor’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together. “You were crying after your performance tonight.”

“Yes.” Viktor whispers, nodding. He squeezes Yuuri’s hand.

“What were you thinking about on the ice?”

“You. Us. Mostly you though.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“I was begging the universe to let you stay close to me.”

“Oh Vitya…” Yuuri brings Viktor’s hand up and presses a kiss to his palm. “Is that why you changed it to be our duet?”

“Yes. I didn’t think it’d be as significant if I skated the solo.”

“I wish I could’ve been out on the ice with you.”

“I do too. I love you so much, Solnyshko.”

“I love you too, Vitenka.”

When their skin gets prickly and half their bath water is on the floor, Viktor and Yuuri decide to move their shenanigans where they’ll make less of a mess. They get dressed, Viktor trying to tickle Yuuri at every chance he gets (which isn’t many. Yuuri grew up with an older sister. He can avoid tickles in his sleep).

Yuuri convinces Viktor to settle down, and sits against the headboard of the bed with Viktor’s head in his lap. He holds his phone out in front of him, waiting for his sister to pick up while he cards his fingers through Viktor’s hair. His husband’s arms wrap around his legs, a very warm and welcome weight keeping him from wholly freaking out about this phone call with his family.

“Yuuri!” Mari exclaims as soon as she answers, “It’s about time. I’ve been trying to call you all night.”

“I know. Was just busy is all.” Yuuri answers, unsure of what to say.

“Too bad. Mom and dad are already asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“So, second? Right next to a certain Russian skater no less too.” Mari raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Yeah.” Yuuri nods, glancing down at said skater. “I’m happy with the results.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“Yeah. Viktor’s very extra.” Yuuri tells her, a fond smile forming on his lips.

“Is he? He’s not evil or self-centered?” Mari chuckles.

“Evil? Never. Self-centered? Maybe a little, but I think there’s someone else he cares about more than himself. I’ll have to ask him sometime.” 

“So I guess dating him is out of the question.” Mari comments, looking thoughtful, “Though he’s out of the question anyways, isn’t he Yuuri? I hear you have a husband.”

Yuuri tenses and groans, his fingers pausing their movement in Viktor’s hair. He had been hoping his family hadn’t seen or heard about the press conference. They don’t usually watch those things, so why did they start now? “Ummm…” He says dumbly. Viktor gives his legs a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah?”

“I’m surprised little bro. Is he with you now?” 

Yuuri can’t help but look down at Viktor in his lap and smile. Even while remaining unseen, he’s still so supportive. “He is…” 

Viktor turns his head to give him a questioning stare. Yuuri answers by shaking his head, brushing his husband’s fringe off to the side. “Can I meet him?”

“Not right now. I’m going to bring him to Hasetsu soon though. I’d rather you meet him face to face.”

“Hmm...should I tell mom and dad?” Mari tilts her head to the side.

“You can if you want. I was planning on surprising everyone, but I kinda ruined that.”

“Then your secret is safe with me. If they ask about what you said, I’ll make some excuse up.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem little bro I’ll-” Mari gets interrupted by barking. Yuuri sits straighter, his breath hitching at the sound. “Vicchan down.” Mari hisses.

“Vicchan’s there?” Yuuri asks, choking back tears. He’s alive! 

“Yeah. Here, say hi to him.” Mari switches the camera to show Vicchan, and Yuuri can’t hold the tears back anymore.

“Vicchan,” He calls weakly, “who’s my good boy?” The small dog barks, and Mari hushes him, saying he’ll wake the whole house.

“I’ll let you go. I know it’s been a tiring day for you.”

“Yeah.” Yuuri nods, staring at the small dog on his screen. “Send me lots of pictures of Vicchan.”

“Sure thing little bro. ‘Night.”

The call disconnects before Yuuri can reply. Viktor sits up, immediately wiping Yuuri’s tears and smiling at him. “I can’t wait to meet Vicchan.” he says.

“I can’t believe it. I didn’t want to hope but then he’s there and oh Vitya.” Yuuri breathes out, grinning.

“We’ll bring Makka to meet him too. They’ll get along great.”

“They will. We’ll have to be careful. I’m sure they’ll both try to get away with being mischievous.”

“Remind me to keep the steam buns at shoulder height.”

Yuuri laughs and nods, reaching over to turn the lamp on the bedside table off. “We have a lot of planning ahead of us.”

“Indeed we do.”

“I guess we should try to sleep before we excite ourselves too much.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” Viktor lays down, and Yuuri does too.

“Goodnight Vitya.” Yuuri whispers, wrapping his arms around Viktor and holding him close.

“Goodnight, my love.”

* * *

_”Do you think he’ll wake up soon?” Yuuri turns away from the window at the sound of someone’s voice. He sees Yurio and Yakov standing at the foot of a bed. Upon closer inspection, Yuuri sees that it’s himself they’re looking at._

_“I don’t know.” comes Yakov’s gruff reply. Yurio grips the edge of the hospital bed, his knuckles white. Yuuri steps closer to them, trying and failing to cover the younger boy’s hands. “When did you say the Katsuki’s were coming?”_

_“They’ll get here around 9:30 tonight. They were planning on staying in a hotel but…” Yurio sighs, hanging his head, “Viktor and Yuuri wouldn’t want that, so I’m gonna drop them off at their apartment. They’ve got the spare room, and I know they have an air mattress Mari could use…Makkachin will enjoy their company too”_

_“Let me know when they get here. I’ll help as much as I can.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_Yuuri’s suddenly thrust forward. He catches himself on the bed, pushing up to see his surroundings have changed ever so slightly. His mom sits in a chair with his dad behind her. Mari stands where Yurio stood yesterday, hands stuck in her pockets. His mom holds his hand with both of her’s, leaning forward as she brings it to her forehead._

_“We’ll take good care of both of you.” She says, “I promise I won’t let anything happen to him. We’ll sit with him so he isn’t alone, so don’t worry. You just focus on yourself okay? Work on getting yourself better.”_

_Yuuri tries to hug his mother to let her know he’s there, that he’s listening and doing okay and so is Viktor, but his arms go straight through her. He wants to scream and cry and take away everyone’s pain. They shouldn’t have to suffer because of him. They should be laughing and teasing each other, not solemnly hanging their heads and whispering words of comfort._

_This isn’t fair. The accident wasn’t fair. These dreams aren’t fair. This pain isn’t fair. None of this is fair and he can’t do a damn thing about it. The words his family speak to him fall silent, and if he couldn't hear the steady beat of his heart monitor, he’d think he had gone deaf._

_The scenery changes yet again, but this time he’s in a completely new room. Instead of seeing himself on the bed, he sees Viktor. Viktor, who’s paler than Yuuri has ever seen him. He wasn’t even this pale when he had caught a nasty stomach flu and had been throwing up for days, unable to keep anything he put in his stomach down. His lips are chapped too, and it breaks Yuuri’s heart to see. If all the machines hooked up to him weren’t working, he’d think his husband dead._

_His family sits around Viktor much like they sat around him, but Yuuri can’t quite focus on them. This is his first time seeing Viktor since they were carefully lifted onto gurneys and taken to the hospital in an ambulance. He knows his hand will just go through, but he can’t stop himself from reaching out and touching Viktor’s cheek._

_He startles when his hand doesn’t go through, but meets his husband’s cold cheek. Tears burst from his eyes, steadily trailing down his face. He immediately climbs onto the bed, laying down next to Viktor’s body and wrapping his arms around him. His actions don’t seem to affect the real world, so he holds Viktor tight and cries, tucking his face into the crook of his neck._

Yuuri wakes to Viktor cradling him in his arms. He’s in Viktor’s lap, and his head on his shoulder. Belatedly, Yuuri realizes Viktor’s skin is wet and covered in his tears. Oh...maybe what happens in his dreams will happen in this weird distorted reality? He’s lucky he had Viktor next to him. Who knows what would have happened if he had been sleeping alone.

“Yuuri?” Viktor’s hand comes up to touch his cheek, “Darling, are you okay?”

“No.” Yuuri sobs, burying himself further into his husband. 

“Okay.” Viktor accepts, rubbing soothing circles into Yuuri’s back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I had a dream…”

“What happened in that dream?” Viktor kisses the top of his head.

“My parents flew in...Yurio’s having them stay in our home...I saw you…” More sobs wrack his body as the image of Viktor in the hospital appear behind his eyes. His eyes shoot open and he pushes back to look at Viktor. His hands come up to cup Viktor’s cheeks, and Yuuri breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of him looking so very alive. 

“Did I do something?” Viktor asks in a whisper.

“No,” Yuuri takes a deep, shuddering breath, “and that was the problem. You looked dead.”

“I’m not dead, Solnyshko.” Viktor reassures, touching his forehead to Yuuri’s, “Is that why you clung to me and started crying?”

“Yes.” Yuuri doesn’t dare to close his eyes, staring at the tip of Viktor’s nose instead.

“It’s okay, my love. We’ll be okay.” Viktor murmurs, pulling Yuuri closer. 

“Yeah. We will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some of you may know from Imporedokbbs, this update is late because last week my mom was taken to the hospital. Thankfully, she's better and no longer in a life threatening situation, but for that reason I had to postpone this chapter. There's a couple things about this chapter I'd like to explain.  
> The first being Vicchan. Vicchan is alive, and I almost planned it so Vicchan lived, but at the end we find out Makka died after we find out what happens to the boys, but honestly my hesrt hurt too much from that (I'm slowly losing my two oldest pets) and so that idea go scrapped. Instead, the unfortunate circumstances fall onto Viktor, which is where his parents come from. Vicchan not dying = Viktor's parents coming back.  
> The second thing is Yuuri's dreams. Yuuri does not dream in the present of their real time. So what he's seeing has already come to pass. The only reason he can touch Viktor in these dreams is because Viktor is with him during these. If they are not together, Yuuri will not be able to touch Viktor in the dreams. This only applies to him too.  
> I've also kinda disregarded time zones. Trying to figure out everything with daylight savings got too confusing lol.  
> This fic has also turned a lot more serious than I had originally planned, so while there will still be a lot of shenanigans, I'm putting a lot of the more lighthearted bits I wanted but can't seem to fit as oneshots in a series (there are a lot lol). They'll also serve to fill in when I can't update on time.  
> Thank you all so much for bearing with me. I love reading your guy's comments and I'm sorry this A/N has dragged on for so long. Thank you all so much for reading 💞💞💞💞💞


	10. Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware that in the beginning of this chapter, Phichit talks and, while it’s not explicitly said, he hints at Yuuri being in an abusive relationship and also Yuuri has an anxiety attack. If that's not something you're comfortable reading, when you see a long "Yuuri" being said (by Viktor) it’ll be over. I tried to make it noticeable while keeping it in proper format with the chapter, and I'm so sorry if it didn't help

“Yuuri Motherfucking Katsuki do not tell me you ran off and got married to that mysterious man you’ve only been seeing for a month, while in Russia.” Phichit starts as soon as he answers, and Yuuri can’t tell if he’s being serious or not.

Yuuri had been hesitant to pick up his call. Phichit’s never ending string of messages and missed calls prompted him to turn off his phone after his call with Mari, but now that it’s mid-morning, he must face his best friend’s wrath. His phone hadn’t been on for more than five minutes when Phichit called, and not wanting to wake his beautiful husband, Yuuri slipped out of bed, put on one of Viktor's practice shirts, and stepped out onto the balcony.

“I did not have a Vegas style wedding with him.” Yuuri reassures, exasperated. He leans against the railing, peering down at the bustle below.

“Then what is all this talk about you being married? You thanked your husband in the press conference?” Phichit still sounds irritated, unable to let this go. And he has every right to be upset. Yuuri’s held back a lot since being thrown back in time. He wonders if he’ll be able to hold off on the whole time travel talk, at least until he gets back. Telling Phichit over the phone isn’t exactly how this conversation should go...

“Because I am married.” Yuuri says simply, shrugging though Phichit can’t see the action.

“There is no way you are married. You’re still in school and you’ve barely been on a date the entire time I’ve known you.”

“I am. It’s hard to explain, but we’ve been married for a while, and we’ve been forced into being long distance until I regraduate.” Yuuri tries to explain.

“Forced to long distance? Regraduate? What does that even mean? Is that even a word?”

“It means up until recently, we were together, until something came up and he has to live in Russia while I live in Detroit.”

“How can you trust that? You’re just suddenly forced apart? Only able to meet in a hotel for a few days and never again until now, presumably at another hotel? Yuuri that’s sketchy as fuck.”

Yuuri turns his head to look through the glass doors, his eyes landing on his sleeping beauty, and sighs. He turns back to the city below, “Peach there’s so much about this you don’t understand. He’s not the kind of person you’re implying he is.”

“What don’t I understand, Yuuri?” Phichit challenges, “Because right now, everything looks suspicious. I was trying to wait till you got back to address it, but I don’t think I can anymore. Is he hurting you? Say that you like katsudon if he’s right there and preventing you from speaking. I’ll call Ciao Ciao.”

“Phichit,” Yuuri straightens, gripping the handrail with his free hand, “I swear on my life it’s nothing like what you’re thinking.”

“Then explain to me what it is like.” Phichit pleads.

Yuuri takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and counting to ten. Phichit is, mercifully, silent while he tries to explain everything without giving too much away. Like he told Mari, he’d prefer for everyone to meet Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov, his husband, not Viktor Nikiforov, the legendary skater, in person. 

“I-” Yuuri stops, shaking his head. This is a conversation he’s run through his head countless times, and it’s nothing like how he imagined it’d be. The explanation, the carefully chosen words, everything he’s planned has gone down the drain, leaving in its wake building anxiety. “I can’t explain.”

“Try.”

Yuuri’s knees wobble and his grip on the railing goes slack. He’s barely standing, and he should really head inside and sit down before gravity takes hold on his body, but he can’t move. He can’t find his voice to call out for Viktor, to tell Phichit he’ll call him back later. Images from his dreams flash behind his eyelids, rushing through each wretched scene on repeat. He sways, letting go of the railing and stumbling back. 

He prepares to hit glass, or maybe the ground, he isn’t sure which one it’ll be. The world is spinning too much. He hears Phichit ask him something, but he can’t tell what his best friend is saying. His voice is too distant. He can’t breathe. His chest is tight and his body has gone numb. He’s going to crash.

Strong arms envelope him as he crashes into an equally strong chest. He’s lowered to the ground as a warm weight settles over him, long legs curling themselves around him. His phone is taken out of his hand and Viktor’s voice fills his ear. “Hey Phichit, this is Yuuri’s husband. Is it okay if he steps away from the phone for a little bit?” 

Phichit’s voice quietly crackles through the speaker, and Yuuri’s husband says a few more things before setting the device off to the side. Viktor clutches him in his arms, whispering soft words of reassurance in his ear. He helps Yuuri ground himself in the present, walking him through breathing exercises and relaxing him.

“How are you feeling?” Viktor asks after Yuuri’s stopped trembling, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Better.” Yuuri answers, taking a deep breath.

“What happened?” Viktor’s voice is gentle, a stark contrast to Phichit’s rising anger. “One minute I’m waking up to an empty bed, and the next I see you about to fall over like a graceless gazelle.”

“Phichit and I- we were talking about what happened at the press conference.” 

“I see,” Viktor draws the word out, clearly thinking what the best course of action is, “Did you want to keep talking to Phichit?”

“I need to.”

“But do you want to?” Viktor asks again, and Yuuri knows what’s really being asked. Is this a conversation Yuuri is comfortable having right now? No, not really, but it’s one that needs to be had, regardless of the memories it brings to the forefront of his mind.

“No,” Yuuri admits, shaking his head, “but I owe it to him to explain everything.”

“Would you prefer if I talked to him?”

“No, I can do it. Is he still on the line?”

“Yes. I told him you’d talk to him in a minute.” Viktor tells him, reaching over to pick his phone off the floor and handing it to him.

Yuuri nods and takes a deep breath, putting the phone up to his ear after unmuting it. “Hey Peach.”

“You good?” Phichit asks immediately.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, “this story I’m about to tell you, it’s a long one. Are you ready for that?”

“I am.”

“Well you see, ten years ago…” Yuuri begins, trying to properly convey to his best friend how his life has changed, how he’s not twenty three years old like people think, how he’s already lived ten years into the future. “And then...one day we were hit by a car and woke up here, in a time before we met and with thousands of miles between us. Remember when you had to take me home early from practice? That was me waking up in this time.”

“You were so confused and panicky…” Phichit recalls, “I guess that makes sense now.”

“You’re not freaking out?” Yuuri asks hesitantly.

“No. Your sudden change in behavior makes a lot more sense now.”

“Oh.”

“So...your husband doesn’t mind your apparently still strong Nikiforov obsession?” Phichit asks, trying to lighten the mood.

“Believe me Phichit, my husband is just as obsessed with Viktor Nikiforov as I am.” Yuuri tells him, side eyeing Viktor.

“Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuriiiiiiiii,” Viktor whines, placing a hand over his heart, “I’m more obsessed with you.” Yuuri rolls his eyes, shaking his head fondly.

“Wow,” Phichit laughs, “it must be a match made in heaven.”

“You have no idea.”

“When are you bringing him to meet me?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe after nationals? We need to talk more about what our plan is.”

“After nationals? That’s so far away though.” Phichit complains.

Yuuri laughs, “It’s just a few weeks.”

“A few weeks too long. What if the media finds out before I do? They already found out about your marriage first.”

“I promise the media won’t know first.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I’d expect you to.”

“Okay well, I’m going to get some sleep now that you’ve finally answered your phone. Congrats on silver by the way.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

As soon as the call ends, Yuuri slumps into Viktor, who chuckles and kisses his head. A cold breeze passes by, making Yuuri shiver and cuddle closer to Viktor for warmth. “Shall we go inside?” Viktor asks.

“Inside sounds warm.” Yuuri replies, closing his eyes at the thought.

“Mmm that’s because it is, my love.”

“Take me in then.”

Viktor stands, lifting Yuuri as he does, and carrying him straight to the bed. He plops him down, and Yuuri barely has a second to see the glint in Viktor’s eyes before he’s met with his husband’s merciless fingers. Yuuri shrieks as Viktor attacks his armpits first, slowly moving down his sides, determined to continue his assault despite Yuuri’s hands trying to swat him away. 

When Yuuri nearly kicks Viktor’s stomach, Viktor jumps onto the bed and straddles him. ”Stop!” Yuuri shouts, trying to deflect Viktor’s hands. Viktor just laughs and goes harder, his fingers dancing across Yuuri’s body in every place he can reach (which, much to Yuuri’s dismay, is everywhere). “I have to-” Yuuri pauses, giggling and trying to catch his breath, “to- to pee!”

“Do you?” Viktor snickers, his fingers slowing but not stopping, “You’re not saying that just to get me to stop?”

“No!” Yuuri catches Viktor’s wrists in his hands, and this time Viktor stops, beaming down at him. Yuuri breathes heavily, trying to slow his breath and come down from the high that came from Viktor tickling him. Viktor moves off him, letting him sit up and rush to the bathroom. 

He comes back to a pouting Viktor, his elbows resting on his crossed knees and hands holding his phone. “What’s the matter?” He asks, relief and concern washing over him when Viktor didn’t try to resume the tickling.

“I went to Twitter, and people are trending their top ten reasons why I’m not your husband!” Viktor frowns, scrolling.

Yuuri chuckles, “I didn’t think they’d even consider you enough of a possibility for me to try and disprove our relationship.”

“Well, some people have analyzed us and said our body language suggests interest and others saw it and now it’s a huge fight.” Viktor informs him, showing him one particular tweet where someone claims to be a psychologist and analyzes their behavior during the press conference.

“Wow. Guess that means I can’t keep my love for you as secret as I thought.” Yuuri rests his chin on Viktor’s shoulder, watching him continue to scroll through the app.

“I know I should say something like ‘at least you tried’ but honestly I’d love to jump you and kiss you senseless, except I’m scared a very hungover Yakov will barge in and cockblock me.”

Yuuri burst out into laughter, clutching at his stomach and clinging onto Viktor. “Like that last time on my birthday?”

Viktor shuddered under Yuuri, “I never want to experience that again.”

“Because your dick almost broke or because he got so mad he called my mom?”

“Yes.”

“Hungover Yakov is something else.” Yuuri chuckles.

“Hungover Yakov will murder me once for complaining about being cockblocked and then again because he’ll think we’re having an affair and not fornicating under the consent of the king.”

Yuuri mulls over Viktor’s words for a second, “Hang on,” he says, “did you just use an acronym to say we’re married so we can fuck?”

“I did. Are you going to do something about it?” Viktor raises an eyebrow, challenging him to do something.

“No. I just wanna know where you heard that.” Yuuri shrugs, already planning when and how to take Viktor up on that challenge. 

“I actually don’t remember where I heard it,” he giggles, “but I do remember seeing you pole dance for the first time and wanting to fornicate under the consent of the king. You’re the king by the way.”

“A king and a legend, what a pair we make.” Yuuri rolls his eyes, planting a kiss on Viktor’s bicep.

“Will you pole dance again at this banquet?” 

“No.”

“Please?”

“Nope.”

“What will we be doing at the banquet this year?”

“I don’t know. Play it by ear? No one will really expect much from us…”

“So we get drunk? Got it.”

* * *

Despite their conversation earlier, neither one of them feel an urge to drink once they step foot into the hotel’s banquet room. They enter together, their respective coaches trailing behind, grumbling with barely suppressed irritation at their antics. The press isn’t invited to this, but they still keep a few agonizing inches between them to keep their coaches from being sent to the hospital. After all, not everyone saw them make out after the Short Programs...

They both hold glasses of champagne in their hands, but neither take a sip of the drink. They stay together, each talking to sponsors separately but still facing one another. Viktor can’t wait to be done with all this. Some of his sponsors have expressed that they don’t like the idea of him being in a relationship. He doesn’t care. He just wants to take Yuuri in his arms and hide away from the world. He doesn’t need people who only care about selling a false image of him in his life. 

When they’re both finally able to catch a break from annoying conversations, Viktor strikes a conversation with his husband. “So there’s really no chance of getting you to pole dance?”

Yuuri gives him a pointed look, “If you want me to pole dance so badly, book a private session.”

“When are you free?” 

“Hmm...I’ll have to look at my schedule.”

“Do you only accept private sessions or can I take you on a date afterwards?”

“Well,” Yuuri looks him up and down, biting his bottom lip, “I only do the pole dancing, but I think I can make an exception for you.”

Viktor grins, leaning down to press a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek but stopping midway. He shouldn’t. Not here and not now. His shoulders slump and Yuuri visibly deflates. Physical affection has always been a large part of their relationship, regardless of what setting they’re in, and not being able to indulge in something as simple as holding hands _hurts_.

“What kind of date are you planning?” Yuuri asks, leaning a little closer than socially acceptable for two acquaintances. Viktor doesn’t care. He even subconsciously leans in closer too.

“Well, I was thinking something simple.” Viktor murmurs, trying to discreetly touch Yuuri’s arm, “We could go back home, bake a little something, watch a movie, move on to the bedroom afterwards or maybe even in the middle of…” he trails off.

Yuuri’s eyes flutter closed, “That sounds enchanting.”

“I’d light some candles too, maybe put up some fairy lights.” Viktor continues, sliding his hand down Yuuri’s arm, “I’d pamper you, cuddle you, love you.”

“You sure do know how to treat a lover.” Yuuri murmurs, looking up at him through his eyelashes. 

“No,” Viktor shakes his head, “I just know how to love my husband.”

“Husband,” Yuuri repeats, “I like the sound of that.”

“Do you? Guess we’ll have to make it official then.”

“Guess we will.”

“Oi! Pig!” Yuri marches towards them, radiating angry teenager energy.

“Yura!” Viktor exclaims, “Have you talked to Otabek yet?”

“What?” Yuri splutters, stopping short. He recovers fast, “I haven’t talked to anyone because you just had to steal the show! No one will stop talking about mystery lovers!” He glares at Yuuri, eyes narrow and scowl deep.

“To be fair, it wasn’t on purpose.” Yuuri says, finally taking a sip of his champagne.

“Bullshit.” Yuri spits, “I bet you were riding on the attention from being in first and just wanted more, long-lasting attention.”

“Well, I bet you’d lose a dance battle against me.” Yuuri shrugs nonchalantly.

“I could beat your ass a million times over.”

“You sure? Prove it to me. Right here. Right now.” Yuuri challenges, smirking.

“Oooh I’ll start the music up.” Viktor says, pulling out his phone and finding a song Yuuri recognizes from the videos of their first dance off years ago.

Yuuri gestures for Yuri to make the first move, and he does so scowling. It’s a simple move, and nothing near the competitive level Yuuri and Viktor expected him to pull. Yuri looks at Yuuri expectantly. Yuuri merely raises an eyebrow and passes his glass of champagne to Viktor to hold. He drops to the floor, spinning and kicking his legs out.

It’s a little awkward, with people just staring with open mouths and wide eyes. Viktor’s random cheering for Yuuri doesn’t help much either, until Chris starts to join in followed by Mila and Sara. Thanks to them, the party gets started. The sponsors only a coach could want to talk to all flock to the sides, watching in distaste as all the skaters drink champagne and dance. Someone got a speaker set up, giving Viktor the opportunity to film as he pleases now that he’s not the one playing music. 

Despite Viktor’s teasing, Yuuri doesn’t get drunk off his ass. He gets tipsy, but claims that because he wants to remember it this time around, he won’t drink any more. Viktor respects that, and manages to divert all of Chris’s attempts to get them both to drink more.

It’s almost like they’re all really close friends again, and Viktor has to keep himself from crying every time Mila or Chris drunkenly hook their arm around his shoulders. For once, it’s easy to pretend that everything is okay, and that the world is normal. Viktor finds himself completely incapable of letting go of Yuuri, and Yuuri is no better. They cling to each other, peppering kisses here and there when they think no one is looking, giggling like children and sneaking tickles and pokes whenever possible.

At some point Viktor tries to get Yuuri to pole dance again, and Chris overhears. Immediately clothes are thrown off and Chris is on a random pole, trying to tempt Yuuri to join him. Viktor, however, decides he’s no longer willing to share Yuuri with Chris on the pole, and tightly holds onto him.

With Chris distracting everyone with his sensual dancing, Viktor drags Yuuri off to the side, away from prying eyes. “Dance with me.” He breathes, wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist, barely giving Yuuri time to get his hands around Viktor’s neck before leading him in a gentle sway.

It’s nothing like their earlier dancing. This is just for them, regardless of the audience crowding the room. Viktor tilts his head down to let his forehead rest against Yuuri’s, staring into those gorgeous brown eyes he loves so much. His hand sits low on Yuuri’s back, his pinky and ring finger slipping between the fabric of Yuuri’s dress shirt and slacks. 

“This is kind of reminding me of the 2019 banquet.” Yuuri murmurs, letting his eyes fall close.

“Mmm, which part?” Viktor asks, rubbing his two fingers up and down. 

“Right now.” Yuuri answers, “Us, dancing while everyone else is watching Chris.”

“We seem to be doing that a lot these days.” Viktor comments, “Reminding ourselves of the past, I mean.”

“Well, we are in the past Vitya.” Yuuri chuckles.

“You do have a point, my love.”

“One of us has to be the reasonable one.”

“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that I’ll always be your other half, dear.”

“Awww Solnyshko,” Viktor cooes, pressing a quick kiss to Yuuri’s lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Vitenka.” Yuuri whispers.

Viktor hums, pressing closer to Yuuri. “Is it okay if I randomly show up on your doorstep out of the blue?”

“Oh so now you ask?” Yuuri grins.

“Hey! It’s not like I could’ve asked before. You had me blocked on every social media!”

“I couldn’t have you find out I was a hardcore fan! Besides, you could’ve used a different account to message me.”

“Would you have believed it was actually me?”

“Probably not...but still!”

“I’m asking now though…” Viktor pouts.

Yuuri shakes his head before moving his arms to wrap around Viktor’s waist and resting his forehead on his shoulder, “Now you don’t need to ask, you goof.”

“It’s the thought that counts though, right?”

“Sure.”

“So can I?”

“Vitya, you can show up on my doorstep spontaneously as long as you don’t do it when _I_ try to show up on your doorstep spontaneously.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No, but I know you’re itching to say ‘bet’ back and forth, so go ahead.”

“Alright, bet.”

“Bet.”

“Bet.”

“You’re a dork.”

They say nothing more, relishing in each other’s company while they can. After all, now that the GPF is over, they’ll have to separate soon, and Viktor’s not ready for that. Kind of like how he wasn’t quite ready for Yuuri to jump on him, wrapping his legs around Viktor’s waist and demanding to be taken up to their room.

Viktor laughs, adjusting his grip so he doesn’t drop his husband. There’s hardly anyone in the banquet room now, and those that are still there are far too close to passing out drunk to care about the five time champion carrying the second place winner (who’s kissing said champion’s neck shamelessly) out of the room. Viktor carries his husband to the elevators, thanking the heavens the doors close before someone could get on with them. He presses the button to their floor, and leans back against the elevator wall, tilting his head to the side so Yuuri can have easier access to his neck.

“You can leave marks now, if you want.” Viktor whispers, breathless.

“Love, it’s a little late to be telling me this,” Yuuri mumbles, “I’ve already left two.”

Viktor chuckles, “Good.” He says, stepping out of the elevator once it comes to a stop. He sticks his hand into Yuuri’s back pocket, pulling out the key card to their room.

Once inside, Viktor kicks his shoes off and sets Yuuri down on the bed. He hovers over Yuuri as Yuuri fumbles with getting his dress shirt unbuttoned. Viktor fusses with Yuuri’s shirt, mumbling about buying better clothes for him next time they’re together as he does so. Yuuri shuts him up by pulling on his tie and locking him in a passionate kiss. Now isn’t the time to be worrying about a shopping spree after all. Now’s the time to be focusing solely on Yuuri, and making sure evidence of their love will be on his body for days after he gets on the plane back to America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my sweet loves, it's been a while hasn't it? I'm so sorry for disappearing on you all. I didn't want to post an A/N to explain everything and give you all false hope of a new chapter update. Those things are always so annoying when you're a reader. Things have just been hectic between school, work, helping my parents move from one state to another, dealing with the aftermath of what put my mom in the hospital, my uncle and grandpa getting covid and thus my grandpa having to go to the hospital for a few days, and more school. I haven't had the time to sit and really write what I'd like to, nor have I had the energy. All of your comments have given me so much strength, and it's because of you all that I'm able to put this chapter out now. I wasn't expecting to put anything out until after the semester ended (next week), but here we are! A couple weeks ago I posted a oneshot, and the consensus seemed to be the angsty version for this chapter, thus Yuuri gets an anxiety attack because his plans to explain everything got thrown out the window. I've missed writing for this fic, and no worries, I have every intention to see it to the end. I cannot wait to get to the next chapter. I alluded to smth that'll happen in this chapter, and I'm excited to get there! I have missed you all so so so much. I can't wait to get back in touch with you all. This is getting to be incredibly long so I'll stop here lol. Thank you so much for staying with me despite my unintended hiatus. I hope you all enjoyed and I look forward to reading your comments!! I love you all!


	11. Baby, What a Big Surprise

After being stuck in an airplane for who knows how long, Viktor is glad to finally be able to properly stretch his legs. From Russia to Spain and Spain to America, he’s been on flights with very little time in between for way too long. He’s relieved to finally be on his feet. That’s largely why he had the taxi drop him off a few blocks from his destination, because he definitely won’t be walking much once he arrives and he wants to get a good stretch in beforehand. Jetlag is starting to catch up to him, and he’s sure that he’ll pass out as soon as he hits a bed.

So here he is, walking the streets of Detroit, rings safely tucked into his jacket pocket, using his phone’s GPS to guide him, and on his way to a coffee shop to pick up some tea he knows his husband will need, before he makes his way to the apartment. Yuuri got back from his own nationals last night, and if Viktor knows his husband, which he does, Yuuri is still dead asleep. He’s got every right to be too. After winning gold at nationals, Yuuri immediately got onto a plane and flew back to Detroit. Viktor almost feels bad about waking him so soon. Almost. At least they can be jet lagged together.

He walks into the coffee shop he knows Yuuri frequents and gets in line, sticking his hand in his pocket to feel the ring box. He smiles to himself. He can’t wait to put Yuuri’s ring on his finger and feel the weight of his own ring on his finger. With his birthday coming up in a few days, being able to wear his ring again and being with Yuuri will be the best gift possible. If only he could’ve brought Makkachin...it’d be perfect. But alas, he didn’t think bringing Makka would be good, since she’d be flying for so long and then likely stuck all day inside an apartment. Instead, she’s spending time with Yakov.

The line moves, and it’s his turn to order. He orders a green tea for Yuuri, and a black tea for himself. While he waits for the drinks to be made, he pulls out his phone and begins scrolling through his instagram feed. That is, until he feels a tap on his shoulder and looks up to see a grinning Phichit Chulanont.

“Hi!” Phichit greets cheerily, “I’m Phichit, my best friend is a huge fan!”

“Hello,” Viktor smiles, trying really hard to not just blab how he knows about everything to the other man, “would you like an autograph?”

“Oh absolutely! Can we take some pictures too? Oh my gosh I should call him! Do you remember Yuuri Katsuki, from this year’s GPF? That’s who my friend is!” Phichit whips his phone out and quickly dials Yuuri, holding the phone out to show his face.

“I do!” Viktor grins, “Yuuri is a very lovely person.” He shifts kind of awkwardly, hoping Yuuri doesn’t answer and praying Phichit is not going to go back to his and Yuuri’s apartment afterwards. 

“He told me he met you, but he didn’t say much about it.” Phichit says, frowning when Yuuri does not answer the phone. He redials, this time holding the phone to his ear. 

“Yes. He’s a very private person, and I think he was far more concerned with his husband than anything with the competition.” Viktor tries to act neutral, but he’s having a really hard time not bursting into laughter. Or breaking into a sweat. Running into Phichit was not part of the plan.

“He is, but I’m his best friend! He wouldn’t even tell me about his husband until I forced it out of him, and even then I barely know anything! Between you and me, I think it’s all some elaborate scheme this dude has created, but I haven’t met him so who knows. Did you get to meet him?” Phichit rants, not giving Viktor a chance to say anything as starts talking to Yuuri, “Yuuri you will not believe who I met at the coffee shop down the street!” Phichit says.

Viktor’s stomach drops in dread of his surprise being spoiled until Phichit continues, and Viktor realizes he’s leaving a voicemail. Good, he’s still got a chance. Maybe now Phichit won’t be concerned about Yuuri’s husband and Viktor won’t have to say anything. He loves Phichit, he really does, but it’s getting harder and harder enduring his comments.

“I met Viktor Nikiforov! I have no idea why he’s here, but I’ll get you an autograph and a video message for you so you can have a nice surprise when you wake up!” Phichit winks at Viktor as he hangs up. “Okay so I don’t have paper, so can I get your autograph on a napkin instead?”

“Sure,” Viktor shrugs, pulling out a marker from the front pocket of his duffle bag and grabbing a napkin off the counter. He writes _I love you_ in cursive Russian, since Phichit would have no hope in being able to translate it if he tried and Yuuri can still read it. He signs his name and hands the napkin to Phichit. 

“Did you just get here?” Phichit asks, eyeing the bag.

“I did,” Viktor nods, “Did you say you wanted me to film something for Yuuri?”

“Yes! Hold on, give me a second to pull up my camera. This is gonna be a much better Christmas present than what I already got.” Phichit quickly taps his phone a couple times, pointing the camera at Viktor saying, “Okay, now.”

“Hi Yuuri!” Viktor waves at the camera, adjusting the bag on his shoulder, “I ran into Phichit here and wanted to say hi! I can’t wait to see you again!” It takes a lot of willpower to not use any of his many pet names, but Viktor manages. Somehow.

Just as Phichit cuts the video, the barista calls out Viktor’s name, setting the two cups on the counter. He quickly grabs them, “Well Phichit, it was nice to meet you. I’ll see you around.”

“Thank you for the stuff for Yuuri. If you have his number, we should hang out if you’ve got the time!” Phichit says, waving as Viktor starts to slowly, kind of awkwardly back up towards the door.

“Definitely. Bye Phichit!” He says, pushing the door open with his back and quickly putting distance between him and his husband's best friend. That was definitely...an experience.

Now he’s got to get to Yuuri before he wakes up and sees everything Phichit sent. And now that he’s out of that situation, he’s able to think of many ways to stop Phichit from being able to ruin his surprise. Like he could’ve lied and said he had a layover here, or that he had a top secret sponsorship, or something. But he was running short on time, and has since made an awkward impression on the man that has unknowingly accused him of many things, and who, in their original time, liked him.

He pushes the thoughts back. Phichit isn’t why he’s here. He’s here for Yuuri. He sees the apartment building up ahead and quickens his pace, practically breaking into a run. He’s almost there. He can’t wait to see his sleeping beauty. He nearly spills the teas on himself in his eagerness to get the building doors open, grateful Yuuri’s told him out to get inside. He rushes to the elevators, bouncing on his feet when the doors close and it starts moving.

As soon as those doors open, Viktor dashes out of the small space to the end of the hall. He drops the duffle bag to the ground, setting the teas next to it and hits the doorbell. He has a key, sure, but it seems right to have Yuuri answer the door and not barge in. Thirty seconds pass, and there’s no answer yet, so Viktor rings the doorbell again, and again, and again. Until finally, he can hear a lock being turned.

The door opens, and Yuuri slowly comes into view. His glasses sit crooked on his face and his hair points in every possible direction. He yawns, covering his mouth with his hand, and barely looking at Viktor. Viktor stands there, grinning and waiting for Yuuri to register what’s going on. “How can I help you?” Yuuri asks, leaning against the door with his eyes closed. 

“I was kinda hoping I’d be able to stay here for a couple days.” Viktor says casually, sticking his hands in his pockets to keep from pouncing on Yuuri.

“I’m sorry but this isn’t a hot-” Yuuri’s eyes open wide and he stands there for a second, his mouth slowly falling open. “Viktor!” He yells, suddenly wide awake and jumping onto Viktor.

Viktor catches him, his arms wrapping tightly around his husband as legs go around his waist. “Hi love,” Viktor murmurs, burying his face in Yuuri’s neck. He’s glad he had the foresight to set everything in his hands down before ringing the doorbell.

“I was wondering who the hell would ring the doorbell so much like that,” Yuuri mumbles, squeezing his body around Viktor.

Viktor chuckles, “I knew you’d be asleep,” he says, “and calling you would ruin the surprise.”

“Why would it ruin the surprise?” Yuuri asks, slowly sliding his legs down so that he’s standing. He keeps his arms around Viktor’s neck and body pressed close. 

Viktor lowers his hands to Yuuri’s hips, “Because on my way here, I ran into a certain Phichit Chulanont and he tried to spam you with calls and texts to tell you I was here.”

“Oh. That’s what he was calling about? I kinda muted him so I could sleep more.” Yuuri admits, chewing his lip.

“I’m glad you did. It would’ve sucked to have my surprise ruined.” Viktor places a peck on Yuuri’s lips, stopping him from worrying his lip so much.

“It’s been weeks and that’s the only kiss you give me?” Yuuri gives him an unimpressed look, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh I see how it is.” Viktor’s gaze zeroes in on Yuuri’s lips, and without waiting for a response, captures them in a deep kiss. 

Yuuri’s fingers thread themselves into Viktor’s hair, and he sighs into the kiss, returning it with fervor. He pulls Viktor in through the door, and Viktor follows easily. Yuuri pushes him against the wall, neither bothering to close the door. Their focus is one hundred percent on this kiss and nothing else. Viktor’s hands slide under Yuuri’s shirt, running up and down his back while Yuuri’s hands slide down Viktor’s chest. 

A plethora of emotions Viktor can’t quite name run through him, filling his chest with warmth and desire, and his eyes with tears. He pulls Yuuri closer, trying to convey to him how much he loves him. The need to have Yuuri as close as physically possible burns within him, urging him to flip their positions. Yuuri moans as his back makes contact with the wall, his clutch on Viktor tightening as Viktor presses against him. 

Tongues meet, and Viktor moans at the contact. His hands fly all over Yuuri’s body, eager to touch and to feel. Pissing Yakov off for having a supposed affair, angering Yuri for slacking off, enduring hours of sitting on a plane, it was all worth it to have Yuuri in his arms, and to be in Yuuri’s. 

Yuuri’s hands roam around Viktor’s body, and he pushes the jacket off Viktor’s shoulders. Yuuri’s hands slide under Viktor’s shirt, and in the back of Viktor’s brain, he can sense something’s missing. He knows what it is, and it’s something he needs to remedy here and now. It can’t wait any longer.

“Hang on, hang on,” he whispers, regretfully pulling away from his husband’s lips.

“What?” Yuuri asks, concern written across his face.

Viktor smiles softly and pushes Yuuri’s hair back, silently easing his husband’s concern. He bends down and pulls the small box out of his coat pocket and gets down on one knee, opening the box to reveal the rings to Yuuri, who covers his mouth as tears start to fill his eyes. “We’ve been married for nearly a decade now, but things happened and we lost our rings and you lost our bet.” Viktor starts, smirking slightly, “We probably shouldn’t get a certificate, since we could end up home at any second, but regardless of that, well, we never really did have a traditional proposal between us, did we? And well, I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. It hurts to be away from you for so long, but the moments we have together are worth the wait. So, Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, will you do me the honor of making our marriage official in this universe, and every universe we find ourselves in?”

Yuuri nods, grinning from ear to ear and tears spilling down his cheeks. Viktor stands, swiping away Yuuri’s tears and fixing his glasses. He can feel tears of his own forming again, and when he blinks, they spill. He takes a ring out of the box and slides it onto Yuuri’s right finger, a weight on his shoulders he didn’t know was there lifting when he sees the gold band sitting on his husband’s hand, where it belongs.

Yuuri takes out the other ring and slides it onto Viktor’s right hand. This. This is right. This is how things should have been. This is how things should always be. This is perfect. The weight he’s been so acutely missing is back and familiar, and he’ll never let it go missing again.

“I love you,” Yuuri proclaims, “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you so much Vitenka.” 

“I love you too, Zolotse, so so much. ” Viktor breathes, pulling him into a tight hug, “I brought you some tea from that one place down the street.”

“You did?” Yuuri buries his face in Viktor’s neck.

“Mhmm. I figured you’d want some after a rude awakening.”

“Vitya, you may have annoyed the hell out of me with the doorbell, but that was anything but a rude awakening.”

“Really?”

“Really. It definitely ranks in my top five times I’ve been woken up by someone.”

“What are your other four?”

“Well, number one is probably the morning after our wedding.”

“That was a very wonderful morning.”

“We should do that again sometime.”

“Maybe when we’re back home?”

“Perfect. Let’s get your stuff brought in and then we can go into my room.” Yuuri says, pulling away.

Viktor pouts, catching Yuuri’s hand in his because he’s unwilling to completely let go of his husband. Yuuri laughs and picks up Viktor’s duffle bag, throwing it over his shoulder and then grabbing his tea from the floor. Viktor grabs his own cup of tea and shuts the front door, following Yuuri to his room. Viktor swoons a little at the action. Yuuri looks incredibly hot, swinging the duffle bag around like it weighs nothing.

“Change out of those clothes,” Yuuri requests, “I want you in something easier to take off.”

Viktor laughs, gently closing the door to Yuuri’s room, “Anything specific you want me in?”

“To be honest, I’d prefer you in nothing, but I don’t wanna risk scarring Phichit.” Yuuri sets the bag down by the foot of the bed, letting his hand slide from Viktor’s so that Viktor can get changed.

“Love, I think he’s going to be pretty scarred anyways when he finds me in bed with you.” Viktor says, taking out an old shirt and pair of sweatpants. He starts stripping, very aware of his husband ogling him and purposely moving slow. Once fully dressed again, he joins Yuuri on the bed.

“Yes, but we don’t need to scar him even more.” Yuuri laughs, immediately climbing onto Viktor’s lap and resting his head on his shoulder. He takes a sip of his tea.

“I suppose you’re right. When is he supposed to get back?” Viktor asks, wrapping an arm around Yuuri while he holds his own tea in his other hand. He can feel the jetlag start to settle in his bones.

“I don’t know. A couple hours?”

“Good. We can get in a nap before he gets back then.”

“A nap with you sounds nice.” Yuuri snuggles into Viktor, closing his eyes.

“It sounds very nice.” Viktor agrees, leaning back against the wall and taking a drink of his tea. 

They sit in silence, simply holding onto each other and sipping on their teas, occasionally sipping some of each other’s drink (Yuuri only agreed to sharing once Viktor promised there was no jam in his). Viktor supposes it was a waste to get tea meant to keep them awake, but that doesn’t matter. It still made Yuuri happy.

When their tea is gone, and they’ve settled into each other’s presence, they lay down, limbs tangling together. Viktor takes Yuuri’s glasses off and sets them aside, resting his hand on Yuuri’s cheek. 

“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” Yuuri mumbles, reaching up to cover Viktor’s hand with his own, “I feel like I’m still dreaming.”

Viktor shakes his head, “I’m here, moya lyubov.”

Yuuri swipes his thumb along Viktor’s hand, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Viktor places a gentle kiss on the tip of Yuuri’s nose. “Go back to sleep, darling.”

Yuuri nods, closing his eyes and cuddling close. Viktor pulls the blankets up over them, and shifts to get a little more comfortable. Yuuri’s bed is small, meant for one person and bought with college in mind. It’s by no means built for two, but Viktor likes it. It’s the perfect excuse to keep his husband close.

* * *

“Yuuri!” Phichit shouts, bursting into Yuuri’s room, “You better get your ass up, we have some celebrity hunting to do! You will not belie-“

Yuuri startles awake at his best friend barging into his room. Viktor groans, automatically tightening his arms around Yuuri to keep him from sitting up. That, paired with the new weight on his finger, settles a sense of peace inside Yuuri. Viktor is here. It wasn’t all just some desperate dream. 

He smiles and turns in Viktor’s arms to face his friend, who is standing stock still staring at them. He sits up a little, despite Viktor’s protests. “Celebrity hunting?” Yuuri questions, yawning. He reaches over Viktor and grabs his glasses off the nightstand, putting them on.

“Yeah…” Phichit says slowly, “Have you not looked at your phone?”

“No, I’ve been mostly sleeping.” Yuuri tells him.

“Oh...well I ran into Viktor Nikiforov and I was going to get you up to go find him, but it seems you’re busy so...that can wait I guess. So uh...who is this?” Phichit shifts uncomfortably in the doorway.

“Ah yeah, he told me he ran into you.” Yuuri smiles, looking down at his sleeping, jetlagged husband who has thrown a pillow over his head. Yuuri shakes him slightly, “Phichit, try not to be too freaked out, but this is my husband, Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov.” Yuuri says proudly. 

“Excuse me _what_?” Phichit looks at him like he’s grown three heads and dyed his hair neon green just as Viktor lifts the pillow and groans.

“This is my husband,” Yuuri repeats, gently pulling Viktor up. Viktor perks up when he realizes this is his grand introduction to Phichit, and turns to fully face him with a grin on his face. “Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov.” Yuuri finishes.

“ _Holy shit_.” Phichit stumbles back, catching himself on the doorframe. 

“Hey Phichit!” Viktor waves, yawning. He turns to Yuuri, “This is not exactly how I thought it’d go.” Viktor whispers to him. Yuuri nods in agreement and shrugs. They’ll probably have to redo this meeting once Phichit’s shock has worn off.

“Oh _fuck_.” Phichit’s face has lost its color, and Yuuri wonders what that’s about. 

Viktor just chuckles and says, “I haven’t quite given you a very good impression, have I?”

“But-but how?” Phichit stutters out, ignoring Viktor’s statement.

“I got drunk.” Yuuri shrugs, “Viktor became my coach after a video of me went viral, and the rest is history.”

“So the person you went to see at the hotel…” Phichit says warily. 

“Was Viktor,” Yuuri confirms, “that was a couple days after our accident. He brought Makkachin back then too.”

“No wonder you saw your man while in Sochi.” Phichit says thoughtfully, “and no wonder you weren’t freaking out about being around _Viktor Fucking Nikiforov_.”

“It’s Viktor _Katsuki_ -Nikiforov,” Viktor corrects, “not fucking Nikiforov. Though I guess saying Viktor Fucking Katsuki-Nikiforov wouldn’t be entirely wrong, if you really think about it.” 

Yuuri smacks Viktor’s arm and rolls his eyes, and Phichit looks like he might faint. “Yuuri,” he says, hand over his heart, “I am so proud of you. You got the man on the poster you’ve made out with to marry you.”

“Yeah sorry Phichit, if you’re trying to embarrass me, Viktor knows about the fanfic. And the pictures of him we edited myself into. And the tumblr. And pretty much everything. Your best man speech included talking about how, in my junior year, I did my cognitive psych project on how my husband’s good looks affect how people see him, and that I called him my husband in front of the class. Twice.” Yuuri says. 

Viktor nuzzles Yuuri, grinning as he listens. “I made that one edit of us skating together my lockscreen for a few months.” Viktor chuckles.

“Wait, you’ve been calling him ‘my husband’ this entire time!” Phichit shrieks, coming out of his stupor. 

“Yes...I don’t know how you didn’t put two and two together. I mean, you literally spoke to him on the phone last month. And a couple weeks ago.” Yuuri points out, chuckling. Viktor reaches up and wordlessly pulls something out of Yuuri’s hair, looking at it for two seconds before flicking it to the side. His hand makes it way back to Yuuri’s hair, and Yuuri leans into his touch.

“Oh my gosh,” Phichit says, eyes widening to the point that Yuuri starts getting scared his eyes will pop out of their sockets, “I told him that we shouldn’t be encouraging your obsession! That you should stop being so crazed over your own husband!”

“You did,” Viktor nods, laughing and continuing to comb his hands through Yuuri’s hair, “It was a great pick-me-up. I distinctly remember being told that Yuuri’s obsession is a cockblocker, but Phichit, please know it is the exact opposite.”

Phichit tightly grasps the doorframe, his knuckles turning white, “I think I’m having a fever dream.”

“Considering we met at a coffee shop earlier, that’s a valid conclusion.” Viktor says, “You almost ruined my surprise.”

“I almost ruined Viktor Nikiforov’s surprise.” Phichit says to himself.

Yuuri looks at Viktor. This is going much better than he thought it would, and Viktor’s soft gaze and gentle fingers make his heart soar. He can’t contain himself from taking a small leap, wrapping his arms around Viktor’s neck and burying his face there, a thousand whispers of _I love you_ falling from his lips. 

Viktor, caught off guard from Yuuri’s attack, takes a moment to respond in kind. His arms circle around Yuuri’s back, hugging him tight. With Phichit still trying to process the whole _Yuuri is married to his idol_ thing, Yuuri just went for suffocating Viktor with affection. These past couple of weeks have been so lonely, and even if he was planning to surprise Viktor, this is perfect.

The moment gets ruined by Phichit when he squeals loud enough to get put in the Guinness book of world records for the loudest scream. Viktor and Yuuri jump at the pterodactyl screech, hitting heads and apologizing to each other before turning their attention to their friend, giving him the what-the-fuck look. Phichit has the decency to look sheepish.

“Dude,” Yuuri says, disbelief filling his tone, “our neighbors are going to call the cops thinking someone just got murdered.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Phichit exclaims, “You guys were just so cute! I couldn’t keep my excitement in any longer!”

Viktor looks at Yuuri, laughing softly, “How does this compare to when you first told him about me being your coach?”

“It was something like this:” Yuuri says, sitting straight and looking Phichit in the eye, “You know how I told you Viktor became my coach?”

“Yes…” Phichit says slowly, “Where is this going?”

“Well, when he became my coach, he showed up at my family’s onsen completely out of the blue and butt ass naked.” Yuuri deadpans.

Phichit’s knees give out under him and he falls to the floor, “Holy fucking shit Yuuri,” Phichit says, “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“I think maybe we should’ve had Phichit sit down first.” Viktor comments, scratching at his sideburn. 

“Yeah...probably.” Yuuri agrees, staring at his best friend. “I think once the shock wears off, we’ll be able to talk with him.”

“Should we see if he’ll sleep?”

“Yeah. I’ll help him to his room. Be right back.” Yuuri presses a quick peck to Viktor’s lips before getting up. He pulls Phichit off the ground, and gently guides him to his room. Phichit follows easily, too stunned to really process what’s going on around him. 

“Yuuri?” Phichit asks while Yuuri helps get him tucked into bed.

“Hmm?” 

“He makes you happy, right?”

“Happier than you can possibly imagine.”

“But you’ve been so sad lately…”

Yuuri nods. He has been very downcast, he can’t deny that, especially after coming back from the GPF, with nothing but some hickies and a few pieces of clothing items to show of his time with his husband. The longer they’re apart, and the more they meet without being able to stay, the harder this gets. Even now his entire body is itching, fire burning through his veins as need to be in Viktor’s arms and to have Viktor in his rages through him. “It’s because we’re not living together anymore.” Yuuri tells his friend. 

“When I wake up, I’m going to tell you about this dream, and we can make it into a fanfic.” Phichit mumbles, settling into his pillows.

Yuuri laughs, “We’ll have a proper talk when you wake up and have calmed down.”

“Okay.” Phichit agrees, “I don’t even remember why I woke up.”

“Because you had to meet with Celestino.” Yuuri tells him, walking towards the door.

“Oh yeah. Don’t let me oversleep for that.”

“Don’t worry, Phichit.” Yuuri laughs, closing the door behind him. He practically sprints across the apartment to his room, where he finds his husband sitting up and stretching.

“How is he?” Viktor asks once he realizes Yuuri has returned.

“I’m pretty sure he thinks this is all an hallucination.” Yuuri tells him, immediately climbing into Viktor’s lap and straddling him. 

Viktor takes Yuuri’s right hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the ring sitting on his finger. “I can’t blame him,” Viktor says, “sometimes it feels like this is some big hallucination, especially now.”

Yuuri nods, pressing his forehead against Viktor’s, “He wants to write a fanfic about this whole thing.”

Viktor laughs, “If I wasn’t living it, I’d read it.”

Yuuri hums, “Do you need to sleep more?”

“No,” Viktor says, his hands coming up to rest on Yuuri's neck, while Yuuri holds onto his biceps, “I don’t want jetlag to take away any more time I have with you.”

“You have all the time with me.” Yuuri whispers, his eyes fluttering closed.

“You know what I mean.” Viktor rubs his thumbs along Yuuri’s jaw.

“Lucky for you, I’m not letting you go the entire time you’re here.” Yuuri squeezes Viktor’s arms. 

“I like the way you think.” Viktor chuckles.

“I knew you would.” Yuuri rubs their noses together, “Do you need to shower?”

“Yes, actually. I probably should’ve showered before taking a nap.”

“Probably, but that doesn’t matter. Come on, I’ll help you.” Yuuri slides off Viktor’s lap and stands, pulling him with him. “We can cuddle and binge something when we’re done too.”

“Sounds perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will definitely be coming around much sooner, I've got one final left and after that I'm free! Actually, I decided to split this chapter in half, because there's just so much to happen with Phichit and Detroit and rings and also the media. It was so good hearing from you guys again too. All of your guys' comments gave me the motivation to write and get this done during final week, and I'm so grateful to you all for reading and supporting this fic! I'm actually not sure how many chapters are left. I haven't sat down and planned that out, but I think this is about the middle ish. Also, I do plan on actually doing a one shot of the top five times Yuuri has been woken up and a short one shot of Phichit's perspective of it all. They won't be actual chapters, but will be uploaded as part of the LYFY series, so be on the look out for those! Also, I know I mentioned a Youtube playlist or smth for this, but tbh the chapter titles are the playlist. They're all song titles from songs that I felt fit the chapter, or are just titles that fit bc I am uncreative af when titling, so one of my last updates will probs list all the artists and everything in case you want to make sure you've got the right songs. I hope you are all doing well and staying safe! 💕


	12. Lost In Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some explicit sexual content in the first part of the chapter, so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip it.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, “I thought we were supposed to be getting in the shower? It’s been twenty minutes at least.”

“Just a little while longer.” Viktor mumbles, tightening his arms around Yuuri.

They’ve been standing in the middle of Yuuri’s room for no particular reason other than Viktor suddenly pulling Yuuri to him and not letting him go. Yuuri doesn’t mind it, not really, but no matter how much he enjoys being in his husband’s arms, standing and not moving does get rather tiring.

“Can the couple more minutes be spent sitting?” Yuuri asks, leaning all of his weight onto Viktor.

“Sure.” Viktor pulls Yuuri to the floor, keeping him close.

Yuuri rests his head on Viktor’s shoulder, sliding his hands under his husband’s shirt. “How did you manage to get Yakov to watch Makkachin?”

“Honestly I’m not sure.” Viktor admits, “I was really tired and maybe a little drunk while trying to convince him, and I think he thinks we’re having an affair? Told me to ‘stop fooling around.’ I vaguely remember going off about how much I love you so maybe that did it? Or maybe I told him I’d send him to Hawaii for a month. Probably both though.”

“It was definitely the promise of sending him to Hawaii. There’s no way Yakov got softened by your drunken love confession.” Yuuri concludes, chuckling, “When do you have to be back?”

“By New Years.” Viktor sighs, pressing his lips to the top of Yuuri’s head, “I wish I could stay longer.”

“I wish I could go with you.”

“Maybe I shouldn't say this, because it’s incredibly selfish and maybe I’ve already asked, but have you thought about dropping out?”

“I have,” Yuuri nods, “but I’ve used so much of my parents’ money and it’s only one more semester, it’d be a waste to drop it now, even with all circumstances considered.”

“Yeah. I wish there was something we could do.”

“Me too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

A couple more minutes turns into another half hour spent sitting on the floor and holding each other. Yuuri’s not complaining, because this is just what he had been craving since he left Viktor at the airport in Russia. It broke his heart to return back to Detroit and find out Viktor was trending on Twitter because he was seen crying at the airport. Upon getting out of customs, Yuuri called Viktor up and stayed on the phone with him for hours, completely ignoring his jetlag in favor of his husband.

“We really should be getting in the shower now,” Yuuri says, pushing away his thoughts and holding Viktor closer. He presses a kiss to Viktor’s lips, “I don’t know when Phichit will wake up…”

“Okay.” Viktor takes a deep breath and lifts Yuuri up, carrying him to the bathroom with Yuuri pointing where to go. Last thing they need is for Viktor to accidentally walk into Phichit’s room. Once the bathroom door closes, they strip down and turn the water on. While they wait for the water to warm, Yuuri tugs on Viktor’s wrist and pulls him in for a deep kiss. He’s been waiting too long to see Viktor again, and now that he has him in his arms, he can’t hold back any longer.

Viktor moans into it, his hands coming to rest just above Yuuri’s ass. Yuuri presses into him, wrapping an arm around Viktor’s neck while the other hand comes to rest on his chest. He can feel the first hints of desire run through his veins, making itself known as blood rushes south. Viktor deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into Yuuri’s mouth and swirling his tongue around Yuuri’s. Steam starts to fill the bathroom, so Yuuri pushes his husband into the shower without breaking the kiss.

Tumbling into the shower with Viktor is a surreal experience. Of the many fantasies Yuuri has had about Viktor being in this apartment, he did not think any of them could ever happen. He definitely never thought he’d be pressed up against the shower wall with his husband kissing him senseless. Viktor’s lips trail down his neck, and Yuuri arches his back off the wall into Viktor, tilting his head to the side to give his husband easier access. Viktor relentlessly sucks bruising marks into his neck.

“Viktor…” Yuuri moans, tangling his fingers in Viktor’s hair, the water hitting his legs hot on his skin. Wrapping his arms around Viktor’s neck, Yuuri pulls him in closer so no space separates them, needing to have him as close as physically possible. There’s been too much distance between them lately, and he’s sick and tired of it. He lifts Viktor’s face back up off his neck so he can kiss him again, raking his tongue across the roof of Viktor’s mouth and nipping lightly at his bottom lip. Yuuri’s erection presses into his husband’s thigh and Viktor reaches to grip it, but Yuuri swats his hand away. Ignoring his own straining cock, Yuuri reaches to grip Viktor’s length, stroking languidly from root to tip while continuing to press his tongue farther into his mouth. 

“Zolotse,” Viktor moans his pleasure into Yuuri’s mouth, unable to hold back from shallowly thrusting into Yuuri’s hand.

Pulling back and giving Viktor a lascivious grin, Yuuri passes him a bottle of shampoo and turns, moving so that Viktor’s cock is slotted against his ass. “Wash my hair, my love?” he asks, voice sultry and low.

Viktor nods eagerly, pouring a small amount of shampoo into his right hand before rubbing his hands together and running them through Yuuri’s smooth, black hair. He works slowly, massaging Yuuri’s scalp as he combs his fingers through the strands.

Yuuri’s head lolls against his chest, moaning a bit with the pleasurable sensations. Viktor bends to kiss below Yuuri’s jaw, moving from a soft press of lips against his neck to a bruising sucking of his flesh once again. Yuuri moans Viktor’s name wantonly, canting his hips against Viktor’s cock.

Threading his fingers through Yuuri’s hair once more, Viktor pulls his love’s head back, trailing his hand down his chest, pausing reverently over his stomach, before lowering his touch and gripping his hard cock. Turning Yuuri’s head abruptly, Viktor kisses him, stroking his cock roughly and reveling in the feel of Yuuri’s shudders against him as his orgasm draws closer.

As Yuuri's body tenses and his eyes flutter shut, Viktor slows his motion, earning him an agonized moan.

“Damn you,” Yuuri huffs as his cock twitches in Viktor’s still hand. “Now is not the time for edging, Vitya.”

Viktor chuckles, starting to stroke Yuuri’s cock again, slow and teasing. “I’m only trying to prolong this. It’s been so long...” Viktor says huskily, flipping Yuuri and pushing him so his back was against the shower wall. Gripping both their cocks Viktor strokes them together. He moves his hand slowly, using his other hand to press Yuuri’s back against the shower wall so that he can’t push his hips forward.

Feeling his own orgasm building as he watches Yuuri pant and moan, his eyes hazy and pupils blown from arousal, Viktor stills the motion of his hand once again. Yuuri growls from impatience and protests over the sudden stop to his climax.

“Since it’s been so long, you shouldn’t be torturing me,” Yuuri says, making brief but purposeful eye contact. “I have stamina, especially in this body. We can do this over and over again.”

“Perhaps,” Viktor considers, “What do you want, moya lyubov?” Viktor watches as a drop of water rolls from Yuuri’s shoulder down his chest and bends to catch it with his tongue, licking across his peck, up to his neck, and across the bruises that are already forming from Viktor’s nibbles and bites from earlier. Marks of his that he can and will admire later, on Yuuri’s pale neck, trailing far enough down that only he’ll be able to admire them.

Viktor kisses the bruises and says softly, “I am yours as much as you are mine; you may take from me what you will.”

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” Yuuri says immediately. It’s been a while since they’ve done something like that, and since he’s living his fantasies now, he might as well indulge in everything he can. “And I want you to suck me off.” Being away from Viktor for so long, and being in the place of many dreams, his desire for more _adventurous_ things has grown.

Viktor looks up to Yuuri’s face, he hums in interest and brings Yuuri’s face up with his finger.

“From how fast you said that, is this something you’ve thought about before?” Viktor asks.

Yuuri nods, meeting Viktor’s gaze and reaching down to stroke his length. “I - have.” Yuuri mumbles out, “It’s something I’ve dreamt about for _years_ , you fucking me in this very shower.”

“Okay,” Viktor says, sinking to his knees, and rubbing his thumb across the head of Yuuri’s straining cock before licking and then sucking the tip. He grips Yuuri at the hilt before taking the rest into his mouth.

Yuuri strains upwards and slams his back against the shower wall in a pleasurable surprise. Placing his hands on Viktor’s shoulders as his husband’s mouth moves steadily around his cock. Viktor slurps and moans, working his hand up and down the shaft while sucking on the tip. Yuuri begins to quiver as his climax draws close, and Viktor reaches around to massage Yuuri’s ass.

He moans in pleasure from Viktor’s massage. His grip on Viktor’s hair tightens slightly from this action. Viktor smirks and presses forward to continue sucking much more eagerly, making sure Yuuri gets enough pleasure to last until the next time they can get some privacy.

Soon Yuuri’s thighs begin to quiver and Viktor feels the swell of the cock in his mouth that means his love is on the edge of orgasm. “I’m going to come,” Yuuri gasps out and Viktor hums in affirmation as Yuuri’s stomach clenches, and he grips the shower curtain with his free hand. He cries out loudly as Viktor swallows around him, screaming Viktor’s name repeatedly through his pleasure.

Yuuri gently pulls on Viktor’s hair before letting go, a signal to stand, which Viktor does reluctantly. Once Viktor is on his feet, he grabs Yuuri gently by the shoulders, lowering him to his knees. “You ready for this handsome dick?” Viktor teases. For a brief moment, Viktor thinks he hears the tapping of footsteps outside the shower door, but he dismisses it as just the tapping of the water hitting the shower floor and walls.

Yuuri gives him an unimpressed look, but nods anyway. He places his mouth over the head of Viktor’s cock before placing his hands behind his back and looking up at his husband through his eyelashes, waiting for his love to respond to this stimuli. Their eyes meet and Yuuri does not look away. Viktor catches a glint of amusement in them, and smirks. 

Seeing Yuuri this way is incredibly arousing, and Viktor’s cock twitches. He grips Yuuri by the hair before moving his hips slowly, thrusting into his husband’s mouth shallowly and experimentally. Yuuri hums in encouragement and Viktor’s next thrust is harder and deeper, making Yuuri swallow around his gag, relaxing his throat and opening it as much as possible. Yuuri’s eyes widen again and Viktor begins moving in earnest.

Yuuri can tell Viktor is trying to hold back, to prolong the experience, so he takes matters into his own hands. He moans, long and loud, exaggerating his whines and letting his tongue swipe along Viktor’s cock as he thrusts. Tears build in the corner of his eyes from the sensation of having his mouth fucked, and Yuuri wants more. He places his hands on Viktor’s ass and urges him to go harder. 

Viktor places a hand on the wall for balance while keeping the other in Yuur’s hair, and watches as his husband takes his cock so well. Yuuri begins to massage his thigh, kneading the flesh and digging his fingernails in slightly. Viktor moans in pleasure from Yuuri’s massage, grunting as he continues to fuck into Yuuri’s mouth. His grip on Yuuri’s hair tightens slightly from the action, his mind clouding as his orgasm builds. 

Soon Viktor’s hips begin to stutter and Yuuri can tell Viktor is on the edge of orgasming. “I’m going to come.” Viktor grits out and Yuuri can barely react, needing Viktor’s seed on his tongue. 

As Yuuri prepares to take Viktor’s cum, Viktor can’t strain himself from reaching his climax any longer. 

_Knock Knock Knock_

Yuuri and Viktor immediately freeze, Viktor’s orgasm dying on Yuuri’s tongue. Yuuri slowly trails his eyes up to Viktor, whose eyes are also wide with shock.

Phichit’s voice calls out concerned from outside the bathroom door, “Hey Yuuri, are you ok in there? You’ve been showing for a while now, and I woke up to some whining noises in there. Also, I have to pee.”

Yuuri pulls off Viktor’s cock slowly, reluctant to let go of this moment. He coughs a little before addressing Phichit, “I’m fine.” He calls out, his voice hoarse.

“You sure? You sound like you’ve been crying.” Phichit says, sounding concerned, “Did you get hurt? Do I need to come in?”

“No!” Yuuri yells abruptly, causing him to start coughing. Viktor offers him a hand to help him stand, and he takes it. His knees wobble slightly, so he leans against Viktor, who gently rubs his back. “It’s fine. I’m not hurt.”

“Okay...you know you can talk to me about anything, right Yuuri?” Phichit asks, and Yuuri really just wants to hide away in this shower with Viktor until they go back to their time.

“Yeah. I promise Phichit, it’s nothing to worry about.” Yuuri buries his face in Viktor’s chest, cringing in embarrassment. 

“If you say so. And please hurry, I really need to pee and I had a crazy dream I want to tell you about.”

“Okay. Give me like, five minutes.” Yuuri says, groaning.

Phichit doesn’t say anything else, so Yuuri assumes he’s walked away. “What do you want to do?” Yuuri asks, looking up at his husband, “You didn’t get to orgasm.”

“No,” Viktor pouts, furrowing his eyebrows, “Phichit has the worst timing I swear to fuck.”

“I guess the world just wasn’t ready for that handsome dick.”

Viktor gives him a wry look, “Next time, we are going to make sure he is out of the apartment and put a lock on the door.”

Yuuri laughs, “Whatever you say, love. I’ll make sure you orgasm first, so you don’t have to suffer again.” 

Viktor grumbles, looking sadly between Yuuri and his own dick, not so silently cursing the fates for letting Phichit interrupt just as he was about to come. Yuuri just pats Viktor’s cheeks and pecks his lips, turning around to grab some body wash.

“I’ll wash you if you wash me,” He says, his voice scratchy. He holds the bottle up and shakes it slightly, teasing. He suspects his voice will be hoarse for a little while, since his husband thoroughly fucked his mouth, but he doesn’t mind one bit.

Viktor nods and takes the bottle from Yuuri, squeezing a good amount of soap onto his hands. Yuuri does the same, rubbing his hands all over Viktor’s skin and creating a good lather. They finish up rather quickly, since their mood completely died and Viktor got incredibly grumpy.

Yuuri can’t blame him for being upset. Not being able to orgasm, especially because outside forces prevent it, is the worst. Yuuri will have to make it up to him later. There’s one particular fantasy he has that would be perfect for spoiling his husband. He just hopes they’ll get some time to do it.

Thankfully, Yuuri had the foresight to bring in a pair of fresh clothes for them. They won’t have to worry about walking around in towels in front of Phichit. Yuuri wordlessly takes what was supposed to be Viktor’s shirt, and instead puts it on himself, leaving Viktor with his shirt. Viktor smiles, briefly, as he puts the shirt on. Once they’re dried and dressed, Yuuri grabs Viktor’s hand, lacing their fingers together and pulls him out of the bathroom. He makes a beeline for the couch, and miraculously doesn’t see Phichit around. He only hears the click of the bathroom door shutting.

He sits on the couch, and Viktor lays down next to him, resting his head on Yuuri’s lap. Yuuri cards his fingers through Viktor’s wet strands, hoping to ease some of the tension built up in Viktor. Yuuri reaches for the remote on the coffee table and turns the TV on, flipping through channels.

“What do you want to watch?” Yuuri asks, looking down at his husband. 

“I don’t care.” Viktor grumbles, folding his arms across his chest as he lays on his side.

“Okay. Well, American TV sucks ass this time of day, but I can put on something like Shrek?”

“Sure.”

Yuuri puts on the first Shrek movie, and settles in, playing with Viktor’s hair. He stares at his hand in Viktor’s hair, watching the gold band glint in the light. He smiles to himself, his heart swelling with love at the thought of all that the ring symbolizes. They’ve been through so much, and yet here they are, still together. Nothing will ever separate them.

“Yuuri!” Phichit exclaims, and Yuuri startles out of his thoughts, turning his head to see his best friend throw open the bathroom door. “You will not believe the dream I had.”

“Oh yeah?” Yuuri raises his eyebrows. 

“You were married to The Viktor Nikiforov, and he came to Detroit and I ran into him at the coffee shop down the street and it was so cute we need to make something based off it. Oh my gosh for once it’s me with all the details! Anyways you two were so cute in my dream and Vikt-” Phichit stops dead in his tracks when he reaches the couch.

“Hey Phichit,” Viktor says, staring at the TV, “it wasn’t a dream.”

Phichit looks to Yuuri, who just shrugs and nods. “It’s nice to know that no matter the dimension, you think we’re cute together.” Yuuri chuckles, urging Viktor to sit up. 

Viktor does, but he puts his head on Yuuri’s shoulder and throws his legs over Yuuri’s. Yuuri had been expecting something like this, since Viktor gets really clingy with him when he’s upset. Unless it’s Yuuri he’s upset with, then he clings to Makkachin or takes her out on a walk. It’s been awhile since they’ve been truly upset with each other, and Yuuri doubts that’ll change any time soon. They’ve been married for eight years after all, and known each other for ten. To Yuuri, Viktor is an open book, and vice versa. Sometimes Viktor can detect Yuuri’s anxiety before Yuuri can realize it’s happening. They talk things out rather than push problems off to the side too. Yuuri is most comfortable with Viktor. He has nothing to hide, and besides, Viktor’s seen it all. If there’s one thing Yuuri has never felt anxious about, it’s his relationship with Viktor. 

“So wait,” Phichit pulls up a chair, “let me get this straight. You put me to bed and just let me believe I was dreaming everything?”

“To be fair, there’s no way we would’ve been able to convince you otherwise. Getting you to go to sleep was the easiest solution.” Yuuri tells his friend, holding Viktor close.

“Okay, but you didn’t have to literally tuck me in.”

“I couldn’t help it.”

“I have so many questions.” 

“Ask and we’ll try to answer them.”

“I guess my first question is why wasn’t I told Viktor was coming?” Phichit asks, staring at them.

“It was a surprise,” Viktor answers, “Yuuri didn’t know anything.”

“Well I kind of suspected it’d happen,” Yuuri cuts in, looking at Viktor to find him already gazing at him. Yuuri melts a little, “because you asked about showing up unexpectedly at the banquet.”

Viktor hums, reaching up and pushing Yuuri’s glasses up his nose for him.

“Okay so then why is Viktor here?” Phichit questions.

“Because Yuuri needed his ring.” Viktor says, not looking away from Yuuri and shrugging one shoulder.

Phichit seems to accept this answer, nodding thoughtfully. “Is the press not supposed to know about your relationship then?”

“No,” Yuuri takes a deep breath, “they weren’t even supposed to know I was married, but my tongue slipped. People around us have accused us of having an affair or faking it, so we’ve never outright said anything. Yakov and Celestino were ready to murder us during the GPF, I’m sure.”

“Celestino kept asking if I knew anything. Never said much, but he was definitely stressed.” Phichit informs them.

“Yeah...I was never in my hotel room so that kinda pissed him off.”

“So if you’re together now, why is Viktor upset? Is that what the crying in the shower was?”

“That’s none of your business.” Viktor says, rather sharply.

Phichit’s eyes widen at the bite in Viktor’s words, and Yuuri can’t help but chuckle. He shakes his head, rubbing his husband’s back. He’s dealt with Viktor getting blue balled before, and while Viktor will be grumpy for the rest of the day, he can ease the tension a little bit by just holding him. “Sorry Phichit, it’s just a sensitive topic right now.”

“Oh.”

“And you know, you can ask Viktor things directly,” Yuuri says, having noticed that Phichit has been avoiding talking to Viktor directly since the morning, “He’s grumpy, but he won’t bite you.”

“Sorry,” Phichit scratches the back of his neck, “I guess I’m still in shock about everything.”

Yuuri nods, understanding this situation is hard for Phihcit to wrap his head around. Viktor shuffles closer to Yuuri, practically sitting on his lap now. He tangles their legs together and grabs Yuuri’s hand, playing with his ring finger.

“So how long are you staying, Viktor?” Phichit asks awkwardly. 

“Till New Years.” Viktor answers, glancing up at the other man before putting his attention back on his husband’s hand.

“Oh so for a little while then.”

“Mhmm,” Yuuri grins, resting his chin on Viktor’s shoulder as Viktor leans his back against his chest, “This next week and a half will be amazing.”

“Well as long as you guys aren’t having sex everywhere.” Phichit teases, causing Viktor to grumble Russian curses and Yuuri to laugh.

“Believe me Phichit, we don’t plan on possibly getting cockblocked.” All this talking is starting to kill Yuuri’s throat. His voice is growing raspier by the word, and if Viktor had been able to orgasm, he’d be enjoying this pain right now. Instead, he’s starting to get grumpy like his husband.

Viktor wordlessly gets up from Yuuri’s lap, walking around the couch and towards the kitchen. Yuuri doesn’t turn to see what he’s doing even as he hears Viktor sifting through the cabinets and rummaging around for whatever he’s looking for.

“So if you’re from the future, can we place bets and enter the lottery and get crazy rich like Biff from _Back to the Future_?”

“You do realize that future is horrifying, right?”

“It might be horrifying, but at least we’d be rich!”

“Peach, we’re famous figure skaters, top in our country, we don’t need to be like Biff.” Yuuri croaks out. He tries to act like he’s clearing his throat.

“Damn. Anywho, would you care to reveal your secrets about how you got VIktor Nikiforov to fall head over heels for you? Oh my gosh in the future do they have those love potions from Harry Potter?”

“I’m kinda offended you think we’re married because of a love potion.” Yuuri bites his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth, “The future isn’t that different from now. Besides, we technically met this year.”

“To be fair, you’ve idolized that man since you were twelve Yuuri. You’ve written fanfiction about tripping on your skates and him catching you then having a cheesy romance movie moment where you stare into each other’s eyes and fall in love.”

“And you do realize he’s read that fanfic, right? Then proceeded to not-so-accidentally accidentally recreate that moment while at practice.”

“And you’re sure there’s no love potion involved?”

Yuuri simply nods, his throat starting to hurt too much to really talk. He really should’ve given it a rest before speaking so much, but some things just can’t be avoided. He rubs at his neck, really trying to be nonchalant about it being sore. He seems to be doing a good job at it though, because Phichit’s questions do not stop.

“Really though, why were you crying in the shower?”

“Phichit,” Yuuri sighs, “some things you do not need to know.”

“Was there a fight?”

“Phichit.” Yuuri warns, staring his friend down.

“Fine, fine,” Phichit puts his hands up, “I’ll stop. I guess that’s why you suddenly got good at Russian. No wonder your professor told you to come in and drilled you.”

“Oh that was a fun day.” Yuuri sighs. 

“So do you mean it when you say he knows about the fanfic? The tumblr accounts? Everything?”

“Yup,” Viktor interrupts, coming back from the kitchen. He hands Yuuri a cup of tea as he sits down, his side pressing against Yuuri’s. “I know a lot more than you think I do.”

Yuuri stares at the tea in his hands then looks at his husband. He leans over and presses a kiss to his lips, whispering a soft _thank you, Vitya_. It’s like Viktor read his mind, and Yuuri couldn’t be more grateful and in love with his husband than what he is right now.

Viktor smiles softly, taking Yuuri’s free hand in both of his. He brings Yuuri’s hand up to his lips, and kisses the back of it, softly rubbing his thumbs around.

Off to the side, Phichit whistles and brings their attention back to him, “Wow, here I was thinking I’d never see the day Yuuri looks his idol in the eyes. I can’t believe you had me believing you weren’t that excited to see your fucking husband at the GPF.”

Yuuri shrugs, taking a sip of his perfectly made tea, “What can I say? I was focused on more important things.”

* * *

Since December 25th is such a huge holiday in America, with it being Christmas Day and everything, Yuuri can’t take Viktor out to celebrate his birthday. Instead, they stay in and celebrate with Phichit. Yuuri, with the help of his husband, bakes a Russian bear cake for Viktor’s birthday, and while Christmas is also celebrated, it’s more of an afterthought. 

Yuuri’s attention is on Viktor for most of the day. He wants the day to be special for his husband, even if his age is confusing to think about now. Yuuri doesn’t think Viktor’s really gotten any older, since if they were back home, it wouldn’t be his birthday yet, but regardless it’s hard to think about. Math isn’t exactly his strong suit.

Despite that, Viktor’s birthday is enjoyable. They don’t do much, and honestly Yuuri couldn’t get him anything truly special since he’s back on a college student budget (and also what he did get is to be delivered in Russia) and he’s not sure if they can take anything back home with them, but he managed to pull Viktor into a store the night before Christmas Eve, where Yuuri picked out a pair of heart shaped lamps that, when one is touched, the other turns on. Viktor adores them, and promises that he’ll try not to constantly turn them on while Yuuri reassures him that as long as they’re not turned into strobe lights, it’s completely fine. 

It felt odd to leave Phichit out of their celebrations, so while Viktor is the center of attention, Phichit is included in their bingeing and board game playing. It warms Yuuri’s heart to see his friend start getting along with his husband. After Yuuri helped Viktor take care of his blue balls, they actually got along quite well. Yuuri shouldn’t be surprised, since in their world the two are great friends, but after knowing all of this particular Phichit’s previous concerns about their relationship being a number of things it’s not, it’s relieving.

Going to bed is probably Yuuri’s favorite part of the day, since now that he and Viktor are alone, they can indulge in more explicit behavior. They’re quiet, since the last thing they need is a repeat of the shower incident. Still, it’s a very enjoyable (and quite messy) experience for the both of them.

The day after Viktor’s birthday, Yuuri takes his husband out on a date. Now that everything is open and running as normal, they can do whatever they please. Yuuri didn’t want to be limited to dining in a Denny’s and going to Walmart to find weird items for Viktor’s birthday. They dress warmly and wish Phichit a good day, letting him know they’ll be back late before leaving.

The first place Yuuri takes them is an outdoor skating rink in the heart of downtown Detroit. It’s not busy, since it’s still early morning and people are more concerned about the aftermath of Christmas than skating in thirty degree weather. The rink itself sits surrounded by snow covered trees, and the breeze blowing by creates the effect of snow falling.

“These skates feel weird.” Viktor comments once they’re on the ice.

“Gee I wonder why.” Yuuri laughs, tugging Viktor along the ice.

“Why didn’t you bring your own skates?” 

“Because it’s not fair if I have my skates and you don’t.”

“You didn’t have to, y’know. You’re already suffering from last night.”

“I know, but I wanted to, and I wouldn’t call it suffering. Now, are we going to skate like those couples in the movies or are we going to have a competition?” Yuuri asks, skating backwards to face his husband. He’s a little stiff, since he’s still feeling the effects of last night's events in his lower region, but he powers through. He’s skated in many competitions with this type of pain, so this is nothing to him. He raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge.

“We can do both, can’t we?”

“Of course,” Yuuri smiles, “but we can only do one at a time.”

“Well then, guess I’ll see you on the other side.” Viktor grins, dropping Yuuri’s hands and speedily skating to the opposite end of the rink.

Yuuri takes a second to react before he’s off, but with the head start Viktor had, Yuuri gets there a moment too late. Viktor’s bent over laughing, so Yuuri reaches out and pokes his head, effectively getting Viktor to straighten and give him a look.

“I know I’m getting old,” Viktor starts, placing his hands on his hips “but I can’t be that old. Not in this body.”

“Maybe not,” Yuuri agrees, “but it’s still a sure way to get your attention.”

“I hate that you figured that out so early in our relationship.”

“It was so tempting!”

“Uh huh,” Viktor raises an eyebrow, “So what do you say? Best two out of three?”

“You’re on.”

Viktor wins their competition. Yuuri let him, partially because he’s still feeling sore, but mostly because seeing Viktor shout and grin in victory makes him happy. Georgi liked to tease that a happy Viktor meant a happy Yuuri and vice versa, and Yuuri has to agree with their old friend. Yuuri doesn’t want anything in this life except for a happy Viktor. 

They leave the rink after a few hours of skating and goofing off. It’s nice to be in America, where figure skating isn’t a big sport and he hasn’t yet made a big name for himself. They can walk around without being bombarded by fans asking for autographs and pictures, and just enjoy their time together. Yuuri swings their hands between them, practically skipping as he pulls Viktor along to their next destination.

It’s nearing lunch time, and while Yuuri doesn’t know any good Russian centric restaurants to take Viktor to, he does know of a good hole-in-the wall Vietnamese place. They both order a hearty bowl of pho, and while they wait for their food, Yuuri kicks his foot out and hits Viktor’s shin. Viktor raises an eyebrow, retaliating with the same action. Yuuri grins and they play footsie until their food arrives. They share and feed each other from their plates, finishing rather quickly.

The rest of the day is spent largely sightseeing, avoiding the edges of sidewalks, and being caught up in each other. Yuuri’s heart soars everytime Viktor turns to him with his heart shaped smile. It’s cold, and Yuuri’s body is no longer used to the harsh winters in Russia, so they huddle close and Viktor shares his jacket with Yuuri and they walk like penguins for a little while.

That night, Phichit has already retired to his room by the time they get back. They try to be quiet while coming in, and not for the first time, Yuuri contemplates getting them a hotel room for Viktor’s stay. Though the chances of his fantasies being brought to life keep him from wholeheartedly considering the idea.

* * *

A couple days after their date, Yuuri and Viktor decide to spend the day just chilling and lazing around. While Yuuri is in the kitchen fixing up a quick snack, Viktor relaxes on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey Yuuri?” Viktor calls out.

“Yeah?” Yuuri replies, not turning away from the cupboards.

“Are you cheating on me?”

“Well, when you’re not here, the body pillow I have of you and I get pretty close. He’s a great cuddler by the way. Very soft.”

“Hmm...so you’re not going around Detroit with some famous figure skater with silver hair?”

“Damn. I guess I’ve been caught.”

“You have,” Viktor confirms, “It seems AllSports has been following you around. They just wrote an article titled _Is Yuuri Katsuki Cheating On Mystery Husband With Legendary Skater Viktor Nikiforov?_ And now a bunch of other sites are writing similar articles.”

Yuuri laughs, snatching a bag of chips from the cupboard and rejoining his husband on the couch. “What does the article say?”

Viktor clears his throat before reading, “ _Figure skater and silver medalist of the Grand Prix Final held in Sochi, Yuuri Katsuki, was spotted with Russia’s Living Legend Viktor Nikiforov on December 26th. The two were spotted holding hands while walking down the streets of Detroit, Michigan._ Ooh they even included pictures! Yuuri look how cute we are!” Viktor shows Yuuri the pictures on his phone before going back to reading the article.

“ _Later in the day, the two were spotted kissing. Katsuki wore a golden band on his right ring finger, while it is unclear whether Nikiforov also had a ring. Since the GPF, fans of both skaters have been speculating their relationship with a majority denying the possibilities of the two being together. Following official events, Katsuki and Nikiforov first met at this year’s Grand Prix Final. Officials from both sides have not commented about whether or not the two skaters have privately met before. An unofficial source that claims to be close to Nikiforov revealed that the two claim to be married. Stay tuned for more updates!_ ”

“Wow.” Yuuri says, unable to come up with any words to describe how he feels.

“In the pictures they have here, my hand is either in my pocket or your’s.” Viktor says, “I’m not sure if I should be offended they seemed to purposely not take pictures of my ring, or that a majority of people deny our relationship. I’m also very concerned that someone was following us the entire day.”

“I think I’m more concerned that they said someone who claims to be close to you said we ‘claim to be married.’ Who have we talked to that we actually said we were married to?” Yuuri frowns, rubbing his forehead.

“I’ve told Yakov you’re my husband but that’s about i-” Viktor pauses, his face morphing from confusion to understanding as he realizes something, “We told my parents.”

“Oh.” Yuuri’s frown deepens, “I forgot about that.”

“I did too. Pretty sure they sold us out for money.” Viktor shrugs.

“Yeah, probably. Should we talk to our legal team about that?”

“Nah, what can they do? Try to break us up?”

“Careful, they might.” Yuuri warns.

“But you and I both know their efforts would be in vain, especially because if they do try to hurt our marriage, I will do more than just sue them.”

“Ooh I have to be honest, Vitya, that kind of just turned me on a little bit.”

Viktor chuckles, “That’s part of why I said it.”

Yuuri moves closer to Viktor, letting his hand fall to his husband’s bicep, “Were-”

“Remember you’re not alone in this apartment!” Phichit yells out from his room, cutting Yuuri off.

Viktor and Yuuri look at each other then break out laughing, “Don’t worry Peach!” Yuuri calls back, “We’re not going to have sex on the couch.”

“We’re not?” Viktor pouts.

“No,” Yuuri shakes his head, “couch sex is for when we’re home, at our own apartment.”

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be.”

“Sure, if you want to get blue balled again.”

“Perhaps I was not insightful enough.”

“No. No you were not.”

“So since they pretty much know about our relationship, what are we going to do at Worlds?” Viktor asks, reaching up to brush some of Yuuri’s hair out of his face.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I think I might end up getting caught kissing my husband on international TV.”

“Oh? Well if you do that, I may just do the same.”

“You better.”

* * *

Yuuri takes Viktor to the airport on New Years Day. Throughout the entire taxi ride, they cannot stop touching in every possible way. Yuuri is addicted to having Viktor’s hands on him, and he can’t let him go yet.

It’s hard getting out of the taxi. Their time is so short together now that they’re at the airport. Yuuri holds onto Viktor’s arm as they walk in, pressing his body close to his husband’s as they get Viktor’s ticket and check his luggage. They’ve cut their time together as close as they can, but now it’s time for Viktor to go. 

Yuuri latches onto Viktor, unwilling to let him pass through security and get to his gate. He doesn’t want him to leave, to have to wait three, nearly four, months to see each other again. How is he supposed to go around the apartment now? At every turn he’ll be reminded of his husband and their separation. Perhaps it’s selfish and greedy, but Yuuri barely has half a mind to grab Viktor and run away from civilization. 

Far too soon they’re reminded of Viktor’s departure and of the public around them. Whispers of “ _Isn’t that Viktor Nikiforov?_ ” “ _Weren’t those two just caught up in a scandal?_ ” and more float through the air. Yuuri pushes them away, not wanting to worry about them now. He can overthink later, right now, he needs to absorb every last drop of Viktor he can.

Viktor kisses him, tenderly holding his neck and being a little more passionate than acceptable for such a public place. Does Yuuri care? No, he does not. He kisses back with just as much fervor and probably squeezing the air out of Viktor from how tight he’s holding him. It’s wet, and maybe even a little bit sloppy, but it’s perfect.

They break apart slowly, reluctantly, chasing after each other’s lips. 

“I love you.” Yuuri cries.

Viktor fruitlessly brushes away Yuuri’s tears with the pads of his thumbs, his own tears cascading down his cheeks. “I love you too.”

“Call me,” Yuuri hiccups, “when you get home.”

Viktor shakes his head, whispering, “Russia’s not home without you.” 

Yuuri sobs, “Give Makka lots of love for me.”

“Of course,” Viktor promises, unable to hold back his own sobs, “I’ll see you again soon.”

Yuuri nods, unable to say anything else. With a final kiss, Viktor gets in line for security. Yuuri stays until he gets a call from Viktor and sees him waving from the other side. 

“Glad you made it through okay.” Yuuri whispers, waving back to Viktor.

“Sort of. I was crying so much and I kept fumbling.” Viktor laughs nervously, “I think I made some people mad.”

“That’s okay,” Yuuri reassures, “can you get to your gate okay?”

“Yeah. You should get going before traffic gets bad.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“You won’t be, love. You’ll still be on the phone with me.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says breathlessly. He slowly takes a step backwards, logically knowing he should listen to his husband, even if his heart screams to do otherwise.

“I love you, Yuuri.”

“I love you too, Viktor.”

“Make sure to tell Phichit that if he hears you crying, to not interrupt.”

Yuuri sputters out a laugh, wiping at his eyes, “I’ll definitely let him know.”

“Think he’ll ever realize what we were doing?”

“All I can say is I hope not.”

When Yuuri manages to flag down a taxi, he gets in and gives the driver the address, leaning his head against the window with his phone pressed to his ear. He and Viktor hit a silent moment in their conversation, which Yuuri doesn’t particularly mind. What he does mind is Viktor telling him it’s time for him to board, and that he needs to hang up now. With a few final _I love you’s_ , their call ends and Yuuri drops his phone in his lap, sobbing in the back of the taxi.

That night, Phichit holds onto Yuuri while he cries himself to sleep on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! First, I would like to thank my wonderful best friend for writing most of the smut bc I cannot for the life of me be mature while writing it. She essentially wrote it, and I just went in to make it flow with the story more. She does wish to remain mysterious, but her writing will probs be making more appearances in my works. What's in here is pretty edited too, as in the og version it's Yuuri that fucks Viktor's mouth, so may post that as a oneshot. It's also kind of a running joke that Viktor didn't orgasm here, because of the many times Phichit's calls and acted as a temporary cockblock (don't worry, the next explicit scene both will be satisfied lol). In the 5+1 fic, everyone voted for smut, so this is the beginnings of it. I'd also like to note that AllSports is heavily inspired by AllKpop, a gossip news site in the Kpop community. That has been in the works since I started this fic. I'd also like to put a disclaimer that I'm 20 and I've never been in a relationship, so my gift/date ideas aren't great. At all. I know this is getting long but I also want to let you guys know I have other works in the making too. I'm working on an update of my Murder Husband's series as well as my Eclipse fic, which is a bodyguard+soulmate+royalty+mafia au. Then I also have a mafia+soulmate and maybe a/b/o in the works. I'll cut myself off now bc this is hella long and end with saying thank you all for reading and supporting me and I hope you all enjoyed this rollercoaster of a chapter! In case I can't update again before the week ends, I hope you all have a wonderful holidays and stay safe 💚 💚


	13. My Baby I Miss(ed) You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is explicit sexual content in this chapter, and Yuuri does have a panic attack at the end.

There’s a certain kind of serenity that overtakes Yuuri as he steps out of the airport and into Tokyo air. Being surrounded by such a familiar language and culture settles a sense of peace inside of him, something that helps ease his anxieties a little more than usual. However, he still keenly feels the absence of his husband by his side. Even though he’s in his home country, it’s not quite right without Viktor. Instead, Celestino stands beside him trying to hail a taxi, and Yuuri knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help but feel a twinge of resentment towards his coach for being where his husband should be. 

Four months. It’s been four _fucking_ months since he last saw Viktor in the flesh, and Yuuri’s entire body screams at him to jump into a random vehicle and go to him. He bounces on his feet anxiously as a taxi pulls up and Celestino works on getting their luggage in the trunk. Yuuri’s coach gives him a look, and the taxi driver stares at him expectantly, and it takes a moment for Yuuri to get his heart out of his head to realize he’s expected to talk.

He tells the driver their destination, and plops himself into the backseat, praying traffic won’t be hellacious. The driver tries talking to him, but Yuuri barely gives him a second glance, far too concerned with the pictures Viktor is sending him. They flood his phone, consisting of the view from their room, Makka, and Viktor himself. It all makes Yuuri all the more desperate to get there.

“Excuse me,” Yuuri says, cutting off the driver’s spiel about great date spots in Tokyo that he could show him, “is there any way you could go faster?”

“Yuuri,” Celestino hisses, “don’t be rude. He was talking.”

Yuuri shrugs, “I just want to get to my husband, is all.”

“For the last time, can you please stop referring to him as your husband and creating a huge scandal out of it?” Celestino asks, exasperated.

“Celestino,” Yuuri starts, “I love and respect you, but I have not seen him in four months. He is my husband, whether you believe it or not, and I’ll be damned if the world doesn’t know he _is_ my husband and that I love him.”

Celestino rubs his hand across his forehead, mumbling something to himself that Yuuri can’t make out. A lot of Celestino’s stress and frustration probably comes from the fact that Yuuri didn’t tell him that he wouldn’t be coming to practice for a week (bless Phichit for covering his ass), and then ended up in what’s technically a scandal. It’s not Yuuri’s fault the internet thinks he’s having an affair with Viktor. That only happened because some gossip mongers stalked Yuuri to try and find out who his husband is.

The rest of the drive is left in discomfort, but Yuuri tries his best to ignore it and not let it crowd his mind by focusing on the influx of texts from his husband. He can’t keep the smile off his face when Viktor sends a picture of himself and Makkachin sitting on the hotel bed. Next comes a picture of just Makkachin, and after that, one of just Viktor. Gosh, Yuuri can’t wait to get to the hotel.

The closer they get, the more impatient Yuuri becomes. He leans forward in his seat, the seat belt digging into him being the only thing keeping him from jumping out and running the rest of the way. As soon as the taxi pulls up to the front of the hotel, Yuuri scrambles out of the vehicle and anxiously bounces on his feet to get his luggage. The moment his bag is in his hands, he runs off, completely ignoring Celestino calling after him. The only thing that matters right now, at this very moment, is getting to the sixth floor.

Yuuri barely makes it onto the elevator, joining a random family of five. He bounces, his entire body shaking with excitement as he presses the button to their floor. The family is let out first, and Yuuri groans at the slight delay of having to stop on the second floor. The parents glare at him, but he pays no mind as he repeatedly pushes the button to get the doors to close faster. His stomach churns with anticipation and his head spins. Just a couple more minutes…

Finally, the elevator opens up to the sixth floor, and Yuuri dashes past people he vaguely recognizes but couldn’t care less about. He doesn’t pause to think about anything except finding room 626, and when he does, stops right in front of it and brings his hand up to knock. He only has to knock once before the door is thrown open and he’s crushed to his husband’s body. 

Yuuri wraps his arms as tightly as he can around Viktor, tears beginning to stream down his face. He’s here. He’s _finally_ where he belongs. Four months felt like an eternity without Viktor, but he’s here now. He’s here. Yuuri wants to scream and laugh and cry, but all he can do now is hold on tight to his husband while the emotions freely flow through him. 

“Yuuri. Solnyshko. Zolotse. My love. Darling. My everything,” Viktor babbles, his voice straining behind all his emotions.

“Viktor. Vitya. Vitenka,” Yuuri cries, moving his arms to go around Viktor’s neck. He jumps and wraps his legs around Viktor’s waist. Viktor catches him, stepping back into the room. He almost closes the door, until he gets half the mind to grab Yuuri’s suitcase and bring it into the room. Once the door closes, and Viktor’s arms are secure around Yuuri once more, Makkachin decides to jump on them, barking in excitement.

Laughter bubbles from Yuuri’s chest as he looks down at the poodle. He sticks his hand down for Makkachin to sniff and decide if he’s worth it, but instead of doing so she goes straight to licking. Yuuri maneuvers his hand to be able to pet Makka’s head and scratch behind her ears. _Fuck_ , it’s so good to be with his family again.

“We will _never_ do that again,” Yuuri says, trying to wipe at his eyes but giving up because there’s too many tears. He buries his face in his husband’s neck instead.

“No, never,” Viktor agrees, bringing Yuuri to the bed. Makkachin jumps on the bed, wagging her tail excitedly while she patiently waits for attention.

“I missed you so much, Vitenka,” Yuuri laments, squeezing his body around Viktor’s.

“I know, my love. I missed you too. I was starting to go crazy without you.”

“It was so hard living there without you. At every turn I could see you and I kept thinking you were there. Phichit wouldn’t stop telling me you weren’t there and sometimes even joked about it and it all felt so wrong without you there.” Yuuri wails, sobbing into his husband’s shoulder, “I missed you so much, Vitya!”

“Yuuri,” Viktor tries to get him to quiet, rubbing his hand up and down his back, “Yuuri, my darling, shhh.”

Yuuri can’t stop the sobs wracking his body as waves of regret roll through him, shaking him to the core. What was the point of putting all that distance between them? Of only being able to communicate through technology and not in-person? It was all so _useless_. “I- I- Viktor! It was all so stupid! I’m so-”

“Yuuri,” Viktor interrupts, asserting himself more firmly before continuing with a softer voice, “It’s okay, my love. We’re here now, and we won’t have to ever do that again. I promise.”

Yuuri cries harder, feeling Viktor’s own tears falling onto his neck. They’ve been through so much. They don’t deserve this. Yuuri just wants to go home, to be with people that he loves, the man that he loves. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. This world, it’s too hard. Hardly anyone treats him seriously, and most people avoid talking to him. He wants to go back to their real life. 

Makkachin, bless her heart, senses her owners’ distress, so she jumps on them. Her paws rest on Viktor’s shoulder and arm while she leans over to lick Yuuri’s face, nudging her head against them. They turn to her, bringing her in to join their hug. She brightens their mood a little, and Yuuri is eternally grateful for her and Viktor.

Yuuri’s gone through a whirlwind of emotions in the last half hour or so, and paired with the jetlag, exhaustion starts to catch up to him. He pulls Viktor to lay down, not bothering to fuss with getting under the blankets, especially once Makka settles behind his legs and rests her head on his knee. He takes his glasses off and throws them to the side, not caring where they landed.

“I don’t want to sleep,” Yuuri murmurs, “I just want to lay down with you and Makka.”

“We can do that,” Viktor whispers, reaching a hand up and running the tip of his index finger down Yuuri’s nose, “Yuuri?”

“Hmm?” Yuuri closes his eyes, trying really hard to reign in his emotions.

“I love you. My darling, I love you more than anything.” Viktor peppers his face in soft kisses.

Yuuri moves as close as he can to Viktor without disturbing Makkachin too much, “I love you, too Vitenka, so much.”

With Viktor’s endless kisses and touches, Yuuri unintentionally falls asleep. He didn’t want to miss out on any precious moments spent with his family, but despite his heart’s wishes, his body put him to rest, unable to catch up with all the hormones raging through his body. He’s not sure how long he’s out for, since the sun still shines through the curtains when he wakes, but Makkachin is no longer against him, and Viktor cradles him to his chest. _It wasn’t a dream_ , he smiles to himself.

“-exhausting. Yakov keeps telling me I shouldn’t talk to you, since you could be the reason I get silver for the first time in years, but neither of us really care about that, do we? As long as we both skate something we’re proud of...I had to lie to him to get him to watch Makka for us. The way everyone acts here makes me think this isn’t just time travel, but dimensional travel too. I mean, how else can everyone’s ruthless behavior be explained? It’s a stupid idea though, isn’t it?” 

“No,” Yuuri yawns, “that makes a lot of sense actually.”

“Oh,” Viktor loosens his hold on Yuuri slightly, “I didn’t realize you woke up.”

“I just did,” Yuuri slurs, pushing on Viktor’s thigh to sit up, “What time is it?”

“Just past five.”

Yuuri nods, stretching, “What you were saying makes a lot of sense though. Everything has kind of felt slightly off. Everyone’s more angry at us instead of being supportive.”

“Yeah,” Viktor rubs at his face, “Never thought we’d ever get to experience _Into the Spiderverse_ or even _The Matrix_ firsthand.”

“Tell me about it,” Yuuri agrees, “Did you say Makka was with Yakov?” He walks his middle and index fingers up Viktor’s chest, interested in what his husband’s comment suggests. 

“Yeah. I know it’s kind of mean to do, but well, it’s been four months and I really didn’t want our first time being interrupted by her licking my butt mid fuck. Again.”

“Can’t blame you. Don’t want the entire hotel thinking someone’s getting murdered in here.”

“Ugh imagine that,” Viktor groans, “getting cockblocked because someone called the cops on us.”

“Now that, would be a fun sex story.”

“Yuuuuuuuriiiiiiii.”

“Vityaaaaaaa.”

“You’re mocking me.”

“And? What’re you going to do about it?”

“There’s a lot of things I could do,” Viktor murmurs, tugging on Yuuri.

Yuuri climbs onto Viktor’s lap, pushing him down into the pillows. The overwhelming need to be as close as physically possible hits him like a truck. When they parted ways four months ago, Yuuri could barely function. Everything in the apartment screamed of Viktor’s presence, and each time Yuuri turned to look at something else, he broke down and sobbed. So, now that he’s in his husband’s arms again, he needs to be closer. Yuuri can’t even think of a reply to Viktor’s remarks. 

He places his lips against Viktor’s neck, sucking and mouthing at every inch he can. Viktor tilts his head to the side, moaning as Yuuri bites and nibbles until his skin becomes too sensitive. Yuuri licks his tongue over the spots he’s abused, before sitting up to look down at his husband. He takes his face in his hands and brings their lips together in a heated kiss.

Viktor’s hands settle on his thighs as he kisses back. Desperate and longing for his touch, Yuuri slides his hands under Viktor’s shirt. “I feel like this is a dream,” Viktor whispers, chasing after Yuuri’s lips when he tries to pull back. 

Yuuri’s hands slide up Viktor’s chest, purposely avoiding the two sensitive nubs there. Viktor groans, clawing at Yuuri’s thighs, “If this is a dream, then it’s the best one I’ve had since we got separated again.” Yuuri breathes as Viktor starts peppering kisses around his face.

“I don’t want to wake up from this.” Viktor tells him, making his way back to Yuuri’s lips.

“Then don’t. Just be here with me, love me and let me love you.” Yuuri whispers, moaning when Viktor slots his mouth against his once more.

“Fuck me,” Yuuri says against Viktor’s lips, surprised at how steady his voice sounds. “Please.”

Viktor rises from underneath Yuuri, pulling Yuuri up along with him. The look in his eyes is almost feral and singularly focused on Yuuri, it sends such deep fire and desire to Yuuri loins. Yuuri feels light-headed and clutches at Viktor's biceps for balance. 

Viktor’s tongue slides into Yuuri’s mouth just as he flips them around so that Yuuri is now laying on the bed and Viktor is on top of him. Viktor places a knee between Yuuri’s legs and finds both of his hands, lacing their fingers together and holding them slightly above Yuuri’s head both for balance and to keep him pinned. Yuuri kisses back hungrily, his tongue meeting Viktor’s and moving of its own accord. _He needs to be closer._

They move in unison. Their lips meet in a needy, desperate kiss. Yuuri feels something unfurl within his chest, something he hadn't realized he was keeping tightly clamped shut. Viktor greedily delves into Yuuri’s mouth, his hands finding every inch of skin they can. Every detail, the texture of the hotel’s bed fabric, golden sunlight streaming into the room, the feeling and taste of Viktor, and the reverent way of kissing, will live in his memory forever.

Yuuri is the first to break the kiss. He gazes heavily at Viktor’s face, glad to see that the other man looks as wrecked as he feels.

“I need to have you closer,” Viktor whispers, licking his way up Yuuri’s neck, nibbling along the way, and unbuttoning his shirt. “I don’t care what happens, I won’t leave you again, for any reason," he continues, punctuating each word with a bite to Yuuri's skin. "I am almost tempted to add more rings to my hands, just to feel that there is more evidence that you are here and mine and always will be."

Yuuri’s breath leaves him as though he’d been stabbed, and maybe he has, for surely the emotions running through him are too much for anyone to handle. He clings to Viktor so hard his knuckles turn white; it’s like an electric charge has just gone through them, binding them together. He begins to shake, trying desperately to reign in his emotions and resist the pull of the anxiety that fills him of never reuniting with Viktor again, that this is all some vivid dream, to have that clawing feeling of longing scar inside him.

"Makes you sound like your age, being old fashioned that a ring is the only thing that shows our love," Yuuri whispers up shakily to Viktor’s ear before nibbling the edge of his earlobe to tease. Now he tries not to give in to the urge to laugh at his not-so-subtle comment against Viktor age; they may only be a couple years apart in age, but Yuuri likes to tease.

"There are more ways than one to unite us, Solnyshko. I do in my old fashion ways to show you that," Viktor mumbles back to Yuuri already grasping the hair at the back of Yuuri’s head to yank it back so he can have an easier angle to softly bite to Yuuri’s neck.

With quick, precise movements, Viktor unbuckles Yuuri's belt and roughly pulls it free of Yuuri's trousers. As Viktor moves to unbutton them, Yuuri reciprocates, pulling him in so they are chest to chest.

"My eager husband," Viktor murmurs, pleased.

Yuuri grunts in surprise as Viktor pushes one of his legs up over his shoulder and pushes him deeper into the mattress. He works his pants and briefs over his hips and peels them off his legs before kicking them onto the floor. The t-shirt he wears beneath his button-down is next, and then he is nude and panting before Viktor. 

Where Yuuri is frantic with desire and anticipation, Viktor is slower in removing his own clothing, although his burning gaze never leaves Yuuri's body. Yuuri crawls himself backward at best he can to lean against the headboard, watching as Viktor undresses. Yuuri begins to stroke himself as the older man reveals his body. 

Still powerfully lean as ever, Yuuri shamelessly admires his husband’s body. He moans at the sight of Viktor's biceps, the silver hair that flops over his eyes, down his smooth body, all the way to his thick cock bobbing between his legs. He works his own length slowly, shuddering with arousal and anticipation for what is about to transpire between them. Viktor stalks toward Yuuri’s body, eyes dark and dangerous. His hands shoot out, grips Yuuri’s calves, and drags him onto his back, further down the bed before climbing on top of him.

"Oh, fuck," Yuuri gasps before his lips are captured in a brutal, messy kiss. 

The feeling of skin on skin is exhilarating. Viktor moves over him as they kiss, his chest sliding over his partner's chest, his hands roaming across Yuuri's skin. They rub and grope at him possessively, never settling too long in one place. Yuuri grips Viktor's biceps and arches into him, his body angled to rub their cocks together. He’s intoxicated with pleasure and desire. Yuuri moves his hands to grip Viktor's hair, his fingers threading through the silver strands, urging the other man on. He eventually lets them fall to Viktor's neck and back, desperate to pull him as close as possible

Yuuri breaks their kiss with a sigh, Viktor's breath hot on his face. Viktor looks him in the eye with naked adoration, a fond smile on his face. He leaves a trail of light kisses to Yuuri's jaw and neck, before stopping to suck so hard at his carotid artery that Yuuri gasps and swears.

"I'm so hard for you," Yuuri pants. "Did you become even sexier while you were gone?"

"Nope," Viktor replies bluntly, still mouthing at Yuuri's throat. "This is for all you." He punctuates his words with a few pumps of Yuuri's cock that leaves him breathless. He pulls back to look Yuuri in the eye before grabbing a handful of Yuuri's hair to tilt his head back. “Tell me what you want,” he commands. 

Yuuri responds with a whimper, so incredibly turned on by Viktor’s display of dominance. The words had gone right to his cock, which is now throbbing with arousal in Viktor's grip. Dark amusement is written all over his face at Yuuri's reaction. He continues to stroke Yuuri slowly, watching his face carefully as it contorts with pleasure. 

"Viktor," Yuuri sighs, "I want...let me suck you."

"Say please," Viktor breaths into Yuuri's ear.

Yuuri lets out a huff of laughter as he watches the slippery head of his cock disappear and reappear in Victor's fist. He pushes against his shoulders until they are both in a sitting position. 

"Please, Viktor," he breathes against his throat. "I need you."

"I'll give you what you need," Viktor replies, "How would you like me?"

Yuuri lets out a long breath before he answers, "Sit on the edge of the bed?"

Viktor obliges, maneuvering himself so that he can swing his legs over the side of the bed, not taking his eyes off Yuuri's face. He inhales shakily, and takes Viktor's cock in his hand. Viktor quirks his lips into a half-smile, he threads his fingers into Yuuri's hair, gently urging him forward. Yuuri’s mouth wraps around the head of Viktor’s cock, his tongue darting out to lick.

Yuuri slowly takes in more of Viktor’s cock, bobbing his head and moaning around the length as Viktor tugs on his hair. He’s been craving this for months. Memories can only go so far and be used so often before they begin to fade and change, and Yuuri’s mind has been failing him for three months.

Viktor seems to have changed his mind on what he wants Yuuri to do to him, pulling him up by the hair so that a wet pop resounds around the room as Yuuri’s lips let go of his cock. Yuuri leans in to Viktor’s embrace, who takes the opportunity as he turns them to suck and nip at Yuuri’s lower lip and possessively knead his ass. Viktor gently guides Yuuri into another position, laying him so that his legs dangle off the side. He hovers over Yuuri, rubbing at the other man’s cock with one hand while sucking at the shining column of his throat. Yuuri clutches awkwardly at Viktor’s body, Viktor on another hand turns them to suck and nip at Yuuri’s lower lip and knead his other extremities. 

Yuuri clutches at Viktor’s biceps and wraps his legs around his waist, squirming just to feel the friction and pressure keeping him pinned. He can feel Viktor’s grin against his skin as he begins to move down Yuuri’s body. He pauses at his chest to viciously bite at one of his nipples, causing Yuuri to arch up and let out a strangled cry. Viktor laves it with his tongue and lays a kiss as if in apology before moving on, biting and sucking his way down Yuuri’s torso. He pauses just above his groin, his eyes closed in ecstasy, to savor the thick scent of arousal in the air. 

Yuuri weaves his fingers in Viktor’s hair and sighs his name, just to feel the weight of the syllables in his mouth. Viktor looks up at him, his eyes half-lidded. A sharp tendril of arousal winds up Yuuri’s spine at the expression of predatory hunger on Viktor’s face. Without breaking eye contact, he licks a slow stripe up Yuuri’s cock. Yuuri moans heavenly at this action. 

He watches as Viktor slowly takes his cock into his mouth by degrees, withdrawing only to then take more. Teeth scrape against him, gently at first and then harder. Yuuri moans helplessly and falls back on the bed. Viktor relaxes his jaw and begins to move in earnest, undulating his tongue and hollowing his cheeks to create a tight pressure for Yuuri to sink into. He isn't even using his hands, but Yuuri still feels delirious with pleasure. His legs squeeze his lover instinctively, trying to keep him as close as possible. He jerks his hips up sharply, once, twice. He wants to make Viktor choke on him, but instead, he smoothly takes what Yuuri gives him, letting his cock hit the back of his throat. Yuuri throws his head back, overwhelmed with pleasure, as Viktor swallows around him. 

"C-close," Yuuri chokes.

Viktor pulls off of Yuuri with a flourish that leaves him shaking. 

"I love hearing your sounds," Viktor says, his voice hoarse but recognizably smug. He strokes Yuuri's thighs as he speaks, before snaking one hand up to roll his testicles. "And you’re so sensitive for me." This last remark is punctuated by Viktor lapping his way up past the crease in Yuuri's thigh and biting roughly at the spot.

"Have you thought about reuniting like this often?” Yuuri grinds out breathlessly.

“Oh, yes. If only you knew,” Viktor looks at him, considering. "Do you trust me to bind your hands above your head, just here?" He demonstrates by grabbing Yuuri's wrists and pinning them together above his head. Yuuri licks his lips and lets out a humorful laugh.

"Yes," he breathes, drawing out the word and meeting Viktor’s eyes. "Do it."

Viktor leans to the side to rummage in one of the nightstands off the side of the bed, squirming a bit at how far he has to stretch to reach an item. From the angle he is laying, Yuuri can’t see what it is Viktor pulls out, but a distinctive elastic sound lets him know what is about to happen a second before Viktor wraps a belt around Yuuri's wrists. 

Viktor quirks his lips, "Like I said, I’ve thought about this often." Viktor drawls out as he tightens the grip of the belt.

Yuuri struggles to control his breathing. His cock twitches in expectation and every inch of his skin tingles. He knows Viktor won’t hurt him irreparably...and there will definitely be some delightful pain afterwards. The thought alone causes him to moan.

“I want to savor this,” Viktor breathes into Yuuri’s ear, settling back down over his body. He lays on his side, and wraps his body around Yuuri, lazily petting his sweaty chest and playing with his nipples. Yuuri tucks his head beneath Viktor's chin and rubs his cheek against his neck, burning with desire and a need for their bodies to be touching at every possible point. He watches as Viktor's hand moves down his torso, stopping only briefly to rub at his belly before starting to stroke him. Viktor's cock presses against Yuuri's hip, hard and leaking. The rhythm Viktor sets is punishing, his grip just on the edge of too tight, too dry. 

"I'm going to make you climax before I love you in my old fashioned ways," murmurs Viktor, his face buried in Yuuri's hair. "You'll open up so nicely for me then, won't you?"

Yuuri groans something that might have been a _yes_. Vulnerability builds in his gut, but he is too close to orgasm to give it serious thought. He brings his still bound hands down to Viktor's shoulder, scratching at it for some form of grip. Viktor pulls back slightly, watching with open lust as Yuuri wriths. He rubs his own cock against Yuuri’s hip again, unable to stop himself from reacting to the small, choked sounds coming from Yuuri’s mouth. Gently, he leans closer to Yuuri’s face, looking at every tiny reaction that Yuuri is having to the stimulus.

“What is that you said, Yuuri?”

"Viktor," Yuuri gasps. "Please."

Viktor's lips quirk in amusement as he smooths his hand over Yuuri's lips and uses his other thumb to rub back and forth over the weeping head of Yuuri's cock. 

“Lie back and spread your legs for me.”

Yuuri obeys. He watches as Viktor, with one hand still around his cock, goes into the nightstand drawer and brings out a bottle of lubricant. Once settled back between Yuuri’s thighs, he adjusts Yuuri’s position slightly, bringing one knee up and spreading his legs a touch further. Viktor hums softly in approval with a press of his lips to Yuuri's knee.

He takes Yuuri into his mouth once more, focusing his attention almost completely on the sensitive head. With one hand, he sets a quick pace, jerking Yuuri roughly back up to the edge. Two slick fingers rub experimentally at his entrance, spreading the lubricant but not quite pressing inside. 

Yuuri groans at the stimulation, his breath coming in harsh bursts from his nose, every muscle in his body coils tighter and tighter as Viktor brings him closer to orgasm. He glances down the taut line of his own torso to see Viktor staring intensely, his gaze black with desire. The sight of his cock disappearing into the other man’s mouth undoes him, his orgasm unfurling so intensely that his vision tunnels. Yuuri whimpers weakly through his euphoria as Viktor swallows his release and continues to work him with his mouth and hand like he’s starving for it. He lets himself relax into the sensation, even as pleasure turns into slight overstimulation. 

Viktor pulls off him abruptly with a sound that is almost feral. He crawls over Yuuri's heaving chest and as Yuuri cranes his neck upwards he meets Viktor in a desperate kiss that is hot and slick and bitter from his own release.

"Beautiful," Viktor tenderly sighs as he breaks away.

"Ahh Viktor, fuck" Yuuri says. He wonders briefly if he looks as wrecked as he sounds. Viktor grins wolfishly down at him, so nakedly adoring that Yuuri's chest aches. 

"We're getting to that, yes."

Yuuri watches, feeling breathless, as Viktor pops open the lubricant cap and reapplies it generously to his fingers. He brings his hand back and once again circles Yuuri's hole with the pad of his middle finger. His other hand slowly strokes his own cock, still rock hard and straining. Yuuri watches, transfixed, as his foreskin slides back and forth over the wet head. The thought that this - that Viktor is going to be inside him again after so long sends a hot stab of arousal through his gut.

"Yuuri. Yuuri." 

Viktor's breathless voice cuts through his distracted haze. Yuuri can’t do anything but moan loudly as Viktor's finger slowly begins to sink into him. Yuuri grips the headboard tightly with his bound hands. Viktor thrusts his middle digit in and out agonizingly slow. His sharp gaze levels at Yuuri's face, cataloging every bead of sweat and twitch of muscle. 

"Good boy," Viktor murmurs, easing his index finger alongside the first. Yuuri breathes deeply through the stretch. The sensation is strange after not doing it together for a couple months, not painful, but so alien to him now that an unnameable ache settles in his chest. Viktor withdraws his hand and applies more lube before reinserting two fingers, still maddeningly slow. Before Yuuri can say anything, Viktor begins to firmly rub in tightening circles inside him. It’s like the ground is suddenly yanked from underneath him, and he is left lost in waves of breathless pleasure. 

"Fuck, Viktor, please—" Yuuri chokes out.

Even Viktor seems to be beyond words. He watches rapturously as Yuuri comes apart at the seams. His cock, still half-hard from Viktor's earlier ministrations, twitches and leaks with each pass of fingertips. Where before the very air between them was electrified with urgency, now the atmosphere is thick and honey-sweet as their bodies readjust to having one another so close. The universe contracts around them, nothing exists beyond the bed. The only sound in the room is Yuuri's desperate, panting breath. 

"Gonna come," he whimpers shakily.

"Not yet," Viktor replies, his voice thick with lust. "I want you to squeeze around my fingers, tightly as you can."

Yuuri complies, moaning as the action further stimulates his abused prostate. When his muscles inevitably relax, no longer able to hold the squeeze, Viktor slides a third finger inside. There is a bright edge of pain to his pleasure now, which stalls his mounting climax. With smooth, precise movements Viktor begins to fuck Yuuri hard with his fingers, making space for himself inside. Yuuri begins to meet Viktor’s thrusts with his hips, the two of them immediately falling as one into a quick rhythm. Yuuri moans from the sensation of the direct attacks against his prostate, nothing can live up to this moment uniting with his love. He can sense the other man’s growing urgency, and decides to use it to his advantage, adding breathily, “Fuck me already.”

“Yes, you’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” Viktor replies, twisting his wrist cruelly as he spears his fingers into Yuuri once more. He pulls his fingers free and takes up the bottle of lube again as he continues, “I can’t believe it’s been so long since I last made love with you. Fuck Yuuri, I need you so bad.” 

Yuuri’s reply dies in his throat as he feels the blunt, sticky head of Viktor’s cock finally press against him. He brings his hands down again to tighten his grip on the headboard of the hotel bed. A slightly hysterical laugh spills from him as the other man works into him incrementally with shallow thrusts. 

Yuuri breathes shallowly as Viktor’s hips become flush with his own. It feels like he is being split in two. Sparks of pleasure skitter along his nerves, igniting his veins and setting him on fire. The moment stretches out for eons. Their skin fusing together where their bodies meet, both too much and not enough. 

“My love,” Viktor says, cupping his face with one hand. His hips flex, seemingly of their own volition, driving his cock impossibly deeper into Yuuri. Yuuri moans loudly, so happy that they are both connected and to have such pleasure again, squeezing around Viktor experimentally. In response, Viktor grips Yuuri by his hips and growls, mouthing mindlessly at his jawline. 

Viktor whispers loving endearments into his jawline, then moves down the side of his head to whisper more into his ear. Viktor's breaths are hot in Yuuri's ear as he slowly withdraws his cock and pushes it back in. "You fit me like a glove. So much time wasted being separated from each other," he punctuates the last word with a particularly sharp thrust that punches an involuntary cry from Yuuri. 

Yuuri, breathless from all this stimuli, can’t ground out any words, as Viktor begins to fuck him with long, smooth strokes. "I need you. Fuck, Vitya, don’t leave me again." Yuuri mewls his words quickly, to get his message across to Viktor, to leave no place unturned between the both of them.

Viktor stills and looks down at him with a longing expression, buried to the hilt. He brings Yuuri's hands to his lips briefly before ducking his head underneath them so they are locked together by Yuuri's bound wrists. "I swear on all that we are, I won’t leave your side," he replies, voice low. He adjusts Yuuri slightly, spreading his thighs farther apart and hitching one leg higher, and begins doing him in earnest with quick, sharp thrusts that punch the breath out of Yuuri's chest. 

The change in position brings Viktor's cock into direct contact with Yuuri's prostate on each stroke, and it is only a matter of seconds before Yuuri is a quivering mess, unable to control the panting moans that Viktor is forcing out from somewhere deep in his chest. 

"Viktor, Viktor, ahh, please, " Yuuri chants, all coherent thoughts wiped from his mind. "I need you so bad I can't think, I can't—I love you," he babbles. His semi hard cock lay against his belly, leaking copiously, untouched except for the occasional brush of Viktor's abdomen as he pounds into him. He can feel a second climax building, it radiates out from his center in waves of almost unbearable pleasure. He pulls Viktor down by the back of his neck as best he can with his bound hands to share a sloppy approximation of a kiss, which really is just a collision of their open, panting mouths. 

"I love you," Viktor moans as he pulls back, one hand laid heavy on Yuuri's chest as he looks down at the place where their bodies are joined. "I don’t care what happens here, anywhere, as long as we’re together," he continues somewhat breathlessly, raking his nails down Yuuri's sternum. "I love you. I love you. Yuuri, my love. My husband," he repeats like a mantra. 

Yuuri moans helplessly; this is what finally brings him over the edge. His abdominal muscles seize and he clings to Viktor with all his strength, his nails digging into Viktor’s back as ropes of come stripe his stomach and chest. Viktor grunts in surprise, transfixed by the sight of Yuuri’s cock pulsing with each thrust of his own. Yuuri laughs at him, a bright, genuine thing that falls from his lips while the other man continues to roll his hips rhythmically. 

The drag of the cock inside him is rougher now, but he loves it, adores having Viktor inside him. Viktor starts to lose his cadence, and pants through gritted teeth, impaling Yuuri over and over. Other than their heavy breathing and mixing moans, the slick, obscene sound of flesh on flesh is the only sound in the room. The slightly smaller man curls his fingers desperately in Viktor’s hair, wanting both to pull him closer and push him away. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes desperately. He grabs a handful of slick black hair and yanks Yuuri’s head back to bare his throat. He tucks his head into the space above Yuuri’s shoulder and breaths deeply, memorizing the scent of sex and their mingled sweat. Yuuri moans, limp and weak as a ragdoll but still desperately turned on. The barest scrape of teeth against the tendons of his neck is the mere hint of someone who intends to leave a mark but does not want to harm. Yuuri lets out little whimpers as Viktor continues going into him with small, fitful jerks of his pelvis. Yuuri can feel the cock inside him flex and pulse with Viktor’s release, and then suddenly he’s full in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. They lay still for just a moment as they were, breathing deeply. 

Viktor gently disentangles himself from Yuuri, who gasps despite himself when he pulls free. 

“Are you hurt?” Viktor asks, his tone soft. He undoes the belt around Yuuri’s wrist, tossing it to the side to be with their clothes.

Yuuri takes stock of himself as he lowers his knees back to the bed and tries to catch his breath. “I will feel that for a while,” he says, closing his eyes briefly to immerse himself into the pain and pleasure. 

Viktor hums, sounding pleased, as he examines Yuuri's body closely. He draws lazy patterns on Yuuri’s chest and stomach, his fingers growing increasingly messy as he does so.

“Were you trying to take advantage of our relationship to get gold?” Yuuri teases, taking Viktor’s hand in his own and lacing their fingers together. 

“Who? Me? Whatever do you mean?” Viktor feigns ignorance, using his free hand to brush Yuuri’s sweaty hair off his forehead.

“Well, you weren’t exactly going easy on me,” Yuuri says casually, smirking.

“What can I say? I’m getting old. I need every advantage I can get to win.” Viktor mumbles.

Yuuri snorts, “Vitya your body is only twenty-eight.”

“But I’m so old!” Viktor dramatically flops onto Yuuri, not caring about the fluids between them. “You remind me of my receding hairline all the time!”

“Oh darling, you won’t be like Yakov.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“Love, you’re thirty-eight and you have yet to reach a hairline anything like Yakov’s. The only thing that shows your age is the glasses you had to get last year. You’re fine.”

“Am I? Am I really?” Viktor chuckles as Yuuri rolls his eyes, “We probably need to clean up then get Makka,” he says. He brushes his knuckles fondly over Yuuri’s cheek.

“Carry me,” Yuuri demands, holding out his arms expectantly.

“Yes, love.” Viktor smiles, standing and then picking Yuuri up.

Viktor carries them into the bathroom, gently setting Yuuri on his feet so he can turn the shower on. As soon as it’s at an acceptable temperature, Viktor picks Yuuri up again and brings him into the shower. The water is perfect, but Viktor blocks most of it, which is fine with Yuuri.

Viktor turns Yuuri so that he can admire his backside, his hand trailing down the curve of his back and into the cleft of his ass. Yuuri pushes his hips back, sighing in pleasure as his husband admires his body. “I love it when I can see my cum spilling out of you.”

“Is it coming out already?” Yuuri laments, “We should’ve brought a plug.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor groans, pulling Yuuri’s body flush against his and burying his face into Yuuri’s neck, “you do many things to me.”

“I should hope so,” Yuuri responds, bringing his hand up to behind him to thread his fingers in Viktor’s hair, “Next time though, tie me to the bed.”

“Fuck,” Viktor whispers, nibbling at Yuuri’s earlobe, “don’t make me shut the water off and drag you back to bed.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” Yuuri says, tugging lightly at Viktor’s hair, “No, that should wait until we get home…”

“Mmm...I love you.”

“I love you too, Vitenka.”

* * *

Later that night, after their bouts of passion have worn off and Makkachin rejoins them, they snuggle together and watch a movie. Viktor holds Yuuri close, and Makka lays across both their laps. Yuuri has no idea what movie is on, far too concerned with being with his husband and their dog to pay attention. They’re both exhausted, and Viktor is the first to fall asleep. His cheek rests against the top of Yuuri’s head and arm slung around Yuuri’s shoulders, and while Yuuri can’t imagine it’s a very comfortable position, he’s too tired to move them both and make Makka move. He falls asleep on Viktor’s shoulder, holding onto his free hand in both of his. 

_”It’s been months, what are we supposed to do?” Yurio asks, staring at Yuuri’s lifeless body instead of at the doctor or Yakov._

_“There’s two options: wait a little longer to see if one or both wake up, or we can take them off life support.”_

_“No!” Yurio shouts, tears cascading down his cheeks. Yuuri steps forward, fruitlessly trying to comfort the young blond. “We can’t give up on them like that.”_

_“Yura,” Yakov starts, putting a hand on his shoulder, “they’ve shown no improvement. Keeping them here is just making them suffer in the long run.”_

_Yurio’s knuckles turn white as they grip the foot of the bed. He leans forward, tears freely falling onto the blanket below. Yuuri wraps his arms around the man, because even if Yurio can’t feel anything, Yuuri can’t leave him to cry alone. “But-but-but they’re alive! They’ll come back!”_

_“We don’t know that for-”_

_“I do!” Yurio spins around, shaking with tears and sadness, “I know they’ll come back. There’s no way they’d leave each other without a goodbye.”_

_“We’ll have to talk about this with everyone.” Yakov says gently._

_“Please let us know of your decision soon.” The doctor says, clicking a pen and writing something down on the clipboard._

“Yuuri?” Viktor mumbles, already sitting up and wiping at Yuuri’s cheeks.

Yuuri sits up, staring mindlessly ahead at the now blank TV, trying to process everything he’s just learned. They might really be dead soon...what will happen to them? Will they stay here? Will the dreams stop? Will they disappear into oblivion? Is this their chance to say goodbye to each other and everyone they love?

He can’t breathe. He throws the constricting blankets off himself, pushing away Makkachin as he stands and rushes out to the hotel balcony. He gasps, desperate for fresh air and fighting with the door to the balcony. Is this even a door? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care.

“Yuuri what’s wrong? What happened?” Viktor’s scared and concerned voice fills his ears, but he can’t react. He gets the door to open with Viktor’s help, and he stumbles onto the balcony, falling to his knees almost immediately. 

Viktor sinks down next to him, not touching or too close, but near enough to be there if Yuuri needs something. He reaches over and closes the door, so that Makkachin can’t come and accidentally hurt Yuuri. Yuuri clutches at his chest, pulling at the fabric that clings to his body. He scrambles to get it off himself, and throws the offending piece of clothing away. He scratches at his chest, nails digging into his skin. Viktor touches him then, holding him by the wrists to keep himself from causing any damage. Yuuri stares at him unseeingly. When Viktor is sure Yuuri won’t start scratching himself again, he lets go of his wrists.

“Yuuri, I need you to calm down for me,” Viktor says, keeping the fear out of his own voice and replacing it with a soothing gentleness. “Can you breathe with me?” Viktor takes an exaggerated breath in and counts, “one, two, three, four, five, six, seven.”

Yuuri doesn’t do anything for the first few minutes. Despite that, Viktor persists in walking him through breathing exercises until eventually, Yuuri starts following his actions. It takes a while, but Viktor patiently helps him calm down, waiting for Yuuri to come to him when he’s ready.

“How are you feeling?” Viktor asks once he’s sure Yuuri has calmed down.

“I don’t know.” Yuuri answers, his voice breaking.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Viktor asks delicately.

“I-” Yuuri starts, fishing for the words, “Viktor.” He breathes, looking down and refusing to meet Viktor’s eyes. How does he tell his husband?

“It’s okay,” Viktor reassures, scooting an inch closer, but still not touching.

“Viktor I- we- I think there’s a chance we’re here so that we can say goodbye to each other.” he rushes out, fresh tears springing to his eyes again as the reality of those words set in.

“What?” Viktor breaths, taken back.

“In my dream,” Yuuri says, trying to remember the breathing exercise Viktor just walked him through, “Yakov and Yura were talking to the doctor about taking us off life support.”

“Oh.” Viktor whispers, and Yuuri chances a glance up to his husband’s face. He doesn’t show any emotion, but Yuuri can see the confusion and heartbreak in his eyes, “What were they saying?”

“The doctor and Yakov think they should, Yura doesn’t want to.” Yuuri whispers.

“Yuuri?” Viktor’s voice trembles.

“What?”

“Can I hug you?” 

He doesn’t even need to think about it. Earlier, the mere thought of anything on his body was suffocating, but now, after voicing the truth and hearing Viktor struggle to remain calm, he needs his husband. “Please.” 

Viktor surges forward, enveloping Yuuri in a tight hug. Yuuri shivers, having not noticed the cold air on his skin until Viktor’s warmth settles over him. Yuuri clings to Viktor, sobs wracking both of their bodies. There’s nothing to say between them, not yet at least, so they hold each other close, crying and whispering _I love you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays everyone!  
> I definitely wanted to get this all to you either today or tomorrow, and I think this is my record time updating lol. My friend wrote 4k words of smut and did a damn good job at it I had to get it to you all as soon as possible. I will say, she is mainly a hannibal fan, so the raw form of the smut doesn't necessarily fit the relationship I've built here, so I do kinda go through and edit for that. She also writes in past tense, while I write in future, so I fix that up too. I do intend to post the raw smut from last chapter, as that one saw much heavier editing than this one lol. This chapter kinda took on a mind of it's own, as I wasn't necessarily planning it to be so emotional. We are starting to reach the end of the story, I have everything except the very end pretty much planned out, but there's totally room to add things if there's something you guys want me to possibly include. I did lay some hints but also some traps in this chapter. Not everything is as it seems after all.  
> I hope you all have a safe and wonderful week, and thank you all so much for your support. Your guys' love and enthusiasm for this story has really helped keep it alive, you have no idea how truly grateful I am for all of you. Your comments and bookmarks and kudos make my days. I love you all so much 💞 (ps, did you catch the lilo & stitch reference?)


	14. Love Under Fire

“Yuuri,” Viktor whispers, cupping his husband’s cheek in his hand. He rubs his thumb back and forth, “it’s time to get up.” 

Yuuri doesn’t move, so Viktor tilts his head forward and presses his lips against his sleeping beauty’s. “Yuuri,” Viktor tries again, louder this time and moving his lips to Yuuri’s forehead. 

“Five more minutes,” Yuuri slurs, tucking his head into the crook of Viktor’s shoulder. 

“My love,” Viktor threads his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, “we should get going now, before anyone else gets to the rink.”

Yuuri grumbles, pressing himself even closer to Viktor. Viktor sighs, relenting to getting some more rest. Truth is, he doesn’t want to compete, doesn’t want to face the world. If they’re dying soon, there’s no point. He just wants to be with his husband. Last night took a lot out of him, and starting the day means interacting with a lot of people he doesn’t want to see. 

It takes a long while before they’re up and moving. They’re both sluggish, sleep still hanging over their heads. They dress each other, unwilling to separate for even a second. Perhaps it’s unhealthy, to be this attached, but Viktor finds he doesn’t care. He’s always been clingy with Yuuri, and well, if they’re dead and dying, he’s going to make up for all the time they had to spend apart. 

At least now Yuuri is done with school, and they’ll be able to move to St. Petersburg together for however long they have left. They have a lot of making up to do, and despite their prior engagements for the rest of the week, Viktor will be damned if something gets in the way of their time. Let the press talk, let people get angry and upset, he doesn’t care. Everyone is already pissed at him. It doesn’t matter.

When Yuuri deems them ready to face the outside world, they say goodbye to Makka and leave the room. The rink is thankfully right by the hotel, just like it had been in Sochi, so they don’t have to go far. Unlike when they were in Sochi, Viktor and Yuuri hold hands on the way there, their arms rubbing together as they walk.

“You know,” Viktor starts.

“No, I don’t know,” Yuuri teases.

Viktor rolls his eyes, smiling, “One thing I wasn’t expecting from being back here was having a hard time speaking in Japanese.”

Yuuri groans, “You’re telling me. My Russian professor kept telling me I was doing great, but that my pronunciation is off!”

Viktor chuckles, “At least we got some practice.”

“I should make you talk Japanese to me the entire time we’re here.”

“Only if you speak Russian to me.”

“I’ll think about it,” Yuuri opens the door to the arena, letting Viktor walk in first.

They find a locker large enough to house their two bags in the locker room, grab their skates and a bottle of water, and head into the rink. Viktor takes a deep breath, a wide smile forming on his face as he sits next to his husband. He didn’t think he’d be back here, much less with his husband by his side, but it’s an oddly wonderful feeling. Finally, they can experience this competition together.

When they’ve stretched and put their skates on, Viktor excitedly pulls Yuuri onto the ice. They beat everyone else to the arena, giving them a little extra time to goof off and have fun before their coaches inevitably make them seriously practice. Viktor pulls Yuuri along, skating warm up laps around the rink. 

“What all do you need to bring from Detroit to St. Petersburg?” Viktor asks, turning to skate backwards.

“Not much I don’t think. Maybe just my clothes?” Yuuri answers, holding out his free hand for Viktor to take.

“Okay, that’ll be easy to move then.” Viktor nods to himself, lacing their fingers together.

“Mhmm. What do you say to skating our routines together? As pair skates?”

“Solnyshko, do you even have to ask?”

And so that’s what they do, barely taking notice of other skaters joining on the ice. They _definitely_ don’t notice their respective coaches yelling at them. Viktor has long since learned to tune out Yakov’s voice, and at this point, Viktor might as well be Yuuri’s coach already. But really, Viktor is far too caught up in Yuuri’s eyes to give a damn.

After going through Yuuri’s short program for the fifth time (they kept trying different moves for the skate to up the base points), Viktor tires. Yuuri pulls him off to the side, where they rest for a minute. Chris whistles as he passes by them, causing Yuuri to blush and roll his eyes. For now, Viktor can pretend that everything is okay.

“Come on, Cariad,” Viktor laughs, pulling Yuuri along the ice once he’s caught his breath.

“Cariad? That’s a new one,” Yuuri says, scrunching his nose.

“It’s Welsh,” Viktor tells him, spinning them.

“Where’d you learn a Welsh pet name?”

“Howl's Moving Castle.” 

“Oh so now you get into that series?” 

“Well I was missing you, and so after our slightly illegal Studio Ghibli binge, I got the books. They’re great by the way, I can see why you like them so much.”

“I just can’t believe it took you so long to read them.”

“At least now you can go off on a tangent about Howl being a bird in the movie but not in the books, and I’ll understand it.”

“Speaking of which...both versions are amazing, but I do wish we got to see Heartbreaker Howl in the movie. Also all the teasing between Howl and Sophie like hello?! It’s wonderful.”

Viktor chuckles, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s lips, “Wanna watch the movie when we get back to the hotel?”

“Hell yeah, I do.”

“As soon as I can slither out of Yakov’s admonishing, we can go.”

Yuuri giggles, “You slither-outer.”

“Yes, I must admit, I am terrified of facing Yakov. I mean look at him! He’s seething right now!” Viktor laughs, turning his husband to face his coach.

“Oh his veins are popping out.” Yuuri chuckles, turning back and pecking Viktor’s lips. “Celestino’s not any better by the looks of it.”

Viktor turns his head to see Yuuri’s coach and shrugs, “Looks like we’ll both have to become slither-outerers.”

“What do you say, ten more minutes on the ice?”

“Yeah, we can run through our programs one more time then get off.” Viktor nods, whisking Yuuri away to dance together. 

“Let’s do Stammi,” Yuuri breathes. Viktor nods in agreement.

All playfulness put on hold, their routine takes on a new meaning as they perform together. In their own bubble, they’re completely oblivious to the other skaters moving off to the sides and their coaches failing to get their attention. 

As Viktor lifts and twirls Yuuri for the first lift in Stammi Vicino, tears well up in his eyes. Yuuri looks so beautiful up in the air, pure love in his gaze as his eyes meet Viktor’s on the way back to the ice. If these are his last moments, he will gladly perish with nothing but his husband in his soul. 

Viktor dips him, leaning to press a quick kiss to Yuuri’s lips because he simply can’t help himself. When they straighten, Yuuri takes the lead for the first time. His hand cups Viktor’s face, and Viktor leans in, reveling in his husband’s rather cold touch. He prays to whoever will listen to him, pleads that this will never end. Viktor lifts Yuuri again, hating that they have to separate for a moment after. He doesn’t want to let go of Yuuri. He doesn’t want to lose his touch. He all but latches onto his husband again when they meet once more, refusing to let go of him. 

Yuuri officially takes the lead now, lifting Viktor with ease. He always has been the one with stamina. Viktor melts into Yuuri as he guides him, moving to his every whim. Maybe this is their goodbye, maybe the fates never meant for them to grow old together, but maybe, just maybe, this is their new beginning. Maybe they’ll get a second chance in their life, or maybe this life is their second chance. Whatever it is, the only thing Viktor wants is to keep Yuuri by his side.

“Viktor!” Yakov shouts, interrupting Viktor’s thoughts and standing at the other side of the rink.

Viktor pretends to not hear him, far too concentrated on his husband’s hands on his waist and the memories of last night swirling through his mind. Viktor cups Yuuri’s face in his hands just as he’s lifted into the air, spinning and gazing into perfect brown eyes. As he’s lowered, he brings his lips to Yuuri’s in a gentle kiss. Yuuri dips him, skating forward and kissing him softly.

When their skate comes to an end, Viktor realizes their rinkmates have all moved to the sidelines, watching the pair in awe. Viktor barely bats an eye at them, far more concerned at the sight of tears in Yuuri’s eyes. Viktor offers him a small smile, knowing all too well why his husband is crying. He wipes at the tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Come on, my love,” he whispers, “let’s get off the ice.”

Yuuri nods, and together they step off the ice. As they put their skate guards on, their coaches come up to them. “Yuuri did you practice any of your skates?” Viktor hears Celestino ask at the same time Yakov asks him, “Viktor what do you think you’re doing?”

Yakov puts a hand on his shoulder and pulls him forward. Viktor’s hand slips out of Yuuri’s at the action, and immediately mourns the loss of such warmth. Viktor tries to reach back and find Yuuri’s hand again, but can’t seem to find any part of him to grab hold onto. He turns in time to see Celestino pulling Yuuri away, and frowns. He wants to go to his husband.

“Viktor!” Yakov says harshly, drawing Viktor’s attention away from the door his love just walked through.

“What?” Viktor snaps, annoyed that this confrontation has left him Yuuri-less.

“What do you think you’re playing at?”

“Playing at? Yakov,” Viktor sighs irritatedly, “I know I was drunk when I first told you, but as ridiculous as this may sound, I’m from the future, where Yuuri Katsuki is my husband. We skate and coach together, and after an accident we got thrown back here. We might be dying soon, so regardless of rumors and what anyone thinks, I am going to stand by my husband.” he proclaims, imploring his coach and only father figure will believe him. 

The hand on his shoulder slackens and falls limply to its owner’s side. Yakov breathes in deep, slowly letting it out, “There’s no stopping you is there?”

“No,” Viktor shakes his head.

“Fine. Just don’t go causing trouble like you did in Detroit again.” Yakov concedes, rubbing at his forehead.

Viktor barely has time to utter “Thank you,” before he takes off, grabbing his and Yuuri’s things on the way. He pulls his phone out, dialing Yuuri’s number as anxiety creeps up his spine. Yuuri doesn’t answer, so Viktor tries again and again, sprinting through the halls in search of his husband.

“Dammit, Yuuri pick up.” Viktor mutters to himself, redialing his number and urging his legs to move faster. If Yakov hadn’t stopped him, if he hadn’t taken his eyes off Yuuri, this wouldn’t have happened. What if...what if Yuuri is gone? What if they’ve pulled the plug and he disappeared? Viktor never got to say goodbye…

 _Please,_ Viktor begs, _don’t let him be gone._

He continues down the halls in search for his husband, finding it harder and harder to breathe. He only pauses when he thinks he catches voices from down the hall. 

“-being disrespectful.” Viktor hears someone say. He slows his pace, bringing his phone away from his ear as he listens to a very familiar ringtone going off. His heart pounds in his ears as he fights to control his breathing, trying to listen to what’s going on.

“It’s not being disrespectful! I can get gold, I have plenty of times in the past, and I have not once cheated my way to it!” Yuuri’s crying. That’s the very first thing Viktor registers as his phone slips from his hand and he rushes into the small, empty room his husband and his coach occupy. He needs to get to his husband.

The two occupants turn to him, but Viktor’s eyes only settle on one. He can feel Celestino’s exasperated gaze on his back, though he’s not sure what that’s about. Viktor gets to Yuuri, crushing his husband’s body to his as he thanks every celestial being for listening to him. Yuuri’s arms circle around him, clutching at the back of his T-shirt. Viktor presses a kiss to the top of Yuuri’s head, his hand coming up to stroke his hair.

After a few moments, Yuuri’s crying stops and Viktor’s smiles softly as Yuuri takes deep breaths. Viktor holds him close, whispering sweet nothings as they both calm down. Everything will be okay. It is not their time to say goodbye yet. _Yuuri is still here_.

Slowly, he turns to Celestino, rage filling his chest as he thinks back to all this man has said. This coach proves his earlier theory about people acting differently, because the Celestino he knows would never be so cruel.

“Celestino,” Viktor starts, his voice stone cold, “with all due respect, you do not know how to deal with Yuuri’s anxiety. You may be a coach, but you don’t know how to help anyone that doesn’t simply experience general anxieties.”

Celestino splutters, staring wide eyed at Viktor, “With all due respect, what do you know about coaching? About Yuuri?”

“More than you,” Viktor answers smoothly, “maybe you know more about coaching, I’ll concede that, but you don’t know Yuuri if you think telling him _you’ll do great! Once you get the gold you’ll feel_ so _much better_ will do any good. Telling him that he’s being disrespectful for expressing his love is not only counterproductive, but completely selfish. What right have you to dictate his actions? To determine who, when, where, what, why, and how he dates? He is married for fucks sake, and just because his marriage is not like your’s, does not make it any less important.”

Viktor pulls Yuuri closer, prompting him to jump and wrap his legs around Viktor’s waist. Viktor moves his hands under Yuuri’s thighs to better support him. Yuuri buries his face in Viktor’s neck, clutching the back of his shirt as he fights to control his breathing. Viktor, while feeling rather angry at this Celestino for being so ignorant, keeps his breathing steady in hopes Yuuri will emulate him. 

Viktor is ready to take Yuuri back to their room when Celestino stops him in his tracks, “Nikiforov,” he starts, stepping closer as if in a challenge, “what makes you think you’re qualified to criticize me? Just because you’re the top skater does not mean you know how to coach or treat others.”

“I know more than you think I do,” Viktor responds, turning his head to look at Celestino over his shoulder, “After all, I am Yuuri’s coach and husband.”

Viktor leaves the room, not wanting to make things any worse. He needs to take care of Yuuri right now. He feels terrible for getting caught up in talking to Yuuri’s coach, but after hearing the things he said and seeing Yuuri so distraught, he couldn’t help himself. Whoever this Celestino Caldini is, it’s not the one they know. 

Viktor takes Yuuri to the locker room, gently setting him down on the bench so he can get their stuff out. “How are you feeling, my love?” Viktor asks, sitting down next to him and wrapping his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders..

“Better,” Yuuri says, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand as tears spring back to his eyes, “I don’t know what brought that on. He said he wanted to talk, and then he started going on about how being in a dating scandal is disrespectful to him and that if I can’t get gold then why am I starting things and just, stuff like that.”

Viktor nods, frowning as he listens to Yuuri ramble about what happened, rubbing his hand up and down Yuuri’s arm. “I don’t like that he just took you away like he did. And then he goes to yell at you for ridiculous things? He’s not Caio Caio.”

“No,” Yuuri agrees, sniffling, “he’s not. I just don’t get it. He seemed perfectly normal back in Detroit, but now he’s so angry.”

“Maybe it’s because of me,” Viktor shrugs, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s temple, “maybe he thinks I’m taking advantage of your extreme admiration of me and he’s trying to get you to see that.”

Yuuri hums noncommittally, standing to leave with Viktor, “Maybe if he yelled at me before last night’s dream I would’ve handled it better.”

Viktor leans over and opens their shared locker, pulling the bags out. He slings one bag over his shoulder and keeps the other in his hand. Yuuri grabs his free hand and tries to take a bag from him, but Viktor moves it out of his reach, “His timing sucked ass, but you did well regardless.”

“Vitya let me take a bag!” Yuuri tries again, letting the subject of his coach drop.

Viktor laughs, “Nope. You can have my hand instead.”

“I can at least help take the weight off you if you give me a bag.”

“You can help by getting the doors.”

“Fine, I’ll do that then.”

“Thank you~”

Yuuri rolls his eyes and gets the door. As Viktor passes, he presses a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek, chuckling at how easy it is to make him smile. It’s a process they repeat until they make it back to their hotel room, where once inside, Viktor drops the bags and Makkachin eagerly comes to greet them. They take her on a short walk, Yuuri insisting on holding her leash while Viktor swings their hands between them. 

“What are we doing for lunch today, Cariad?” Viktor asks once they’re back in their room.

“I don’t know, room service?” Yuuri answers, flopping face first onto the bed.

“Fancy,” Viktor chuckles, plunking down next to him. He leans over Yuuri to grab his laptop off the nightstand, “wanna order that while I get Howl’s Moving Castle pulled up?”

“Ugh,” Yuuri groans, “that requires moving.”

Viktor pats Yuuri’s butt, “I know, love. But if you order, I’ll get up and get it.”

“Fiiiiiine.” Yuuri sits up and reaches for the phone. 

Viktor finds the movie and sits back against the headboard, waiting for Yuuri to finish the phone call. When he does, he curls into Viktor’s side and presses play. “Can I just say, the aesthetics of this movie are amazing.” Yuuri says.

Viktor hums his agreement, “I read somewhere that the author originally hadn’t imagined feet for the castle.”

“It would’ve been interesting to see it float instead of walk.”

“Oh my gosh what if Studio Ghibli did live action remakes of all their movies?”

“Darling, please don’t say that. They’ve already changed their style with that Earwig and The Witch movie. We don’t need to give them any ideas.”

Yuuri cackles, “Can you imagine it though? A real life rendition of the castle just walking along and chasing you?”

“I’d really rather not.” 

“Howl is so hot.”

“He so is.”

“I wonder why they put so much technological things in this movie. In the book, Sophie is terrified of cars.”

“She could be terrified of them, or she could be terrified of Howl’s driving.”

“Oh I sympathize with her then.”

“Hey!”

“What?”

“What do you mean you sympathize with her?”

“Oh nothing love, just that sometimes your driving is a little scary.”

“It is not!”

“It is too!”

“Name one time my driving was scary.”

“Okay. There was that time when we were coming home from Yakov’s place, and you veered into the other lane because you were too busy fussing over making sure I was comfortable.”

“That was a very valid excuse.”

“There was also that time you almost rear ended someone because you saw a cat on the side of the road.”

“That was also very valid.”

“Vitya, it’s valid when you’re the passenger, not when you’re the driver.”

“Whatever you say dear~” 

Their food comes, and the rest of the day is spent bickering and delving deep into Howl’s Moving Castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri slightly illegally watch shows together in the same way me and my best friend do, screen sharing while in a video call lmfao. One of them has audio while the other relies solely on subtitles to know what's going on because they can't for the life of them figure out how to share audio, just visual (also like me and my friend). If y'all couldn't tell, I'm kinda in an HMC phase rn (rewatched the movie for the first time in forever then read the books), and thus, I just had to include it. Tried not to spoil anything book related though, since most people only know the Studio Ghibli version. Also, I made a discord server that you can join [here](https://discord.gg/3hxVJJHYCp) if you want to! I've announced it on [tumblr](https://howls-moving-ice-skates.tumblr.com), but I'm doing it here too in case y'all want to join! I spoil bits and pieces of LYFY there and the other members who also write share things! Lastly, my mom might know about fanfiction (and my login info) so I am changing my username. Just wanted to give y'all a heads up.


	15. You're the Inspiration

Yuuri trembles, thankful for the lockers pressing into his back and his husband pushing on his front. Viktor slides his leg between Yuuri’s, holding their hands above his head by his wrists. Their mouths move in unison, tongues sliding and teeth clashing. Yuuri moans, thrusting his hips into Viktor’s thigh, seeking friction. He needs more. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes against his mouth, rubbing his leg against Yuuri’s groin. He moans, his hands pushing Yuuri’s shirt up as his fingers make contact with Yuuri’s nipples. 

Yuuri pulls away from Viktor’s lips with a gasp, arching into his touch. Viktor latches his mouth onto Yuuri’s neck, sucking bruises into the sensitive skin. Yuuri pants, clutching at Viktor’s shirt and digging his nails into his husband’s back. He moans, loud and wanting as Viktor laps his tongue over the marks he leaves. 

“We should be getting ready,” Viktor mumbles against his skin, rubbing Yuuri’s erect nipples between his fingers. 

Yuuri moves his hips faster, “Don’t you dare stop now Vitya. We still have time,” he warns, whimpering when Viktor bites down hard on his shoulder. 

Viktor trails a hand down Yuuri’s stomach, stopping just above the waistline of his pants. Yuuri groans, pushing his hips up to try and get that hand where he needs it. Viktor pops off Yuuri’s neck, his lips meeting Yuuri’s once again with a feverish passion. Yuuri whines, desperate for his husband’s touch. Viktor’s fingers dip into Yuuri’s underwear, slowly sliding-

“Wow,” a foreign voice interrupts, wolf whistling, “I’ve had my fair share of locker room sex, but that was…wow.”

Much to Yuuri’s dismay, Viktor slowly disentangles himself from him. A string of saliva still connects their mouths, so Yuuri swipes his tongue along his bottom lip to get rid of it. Viktor rests his forehead against Yuuri’s, taking a deep breath. “Chris, you’re early,” Viktor grumbles, his voice huskier and deeper than normal. 

A shiver runs up Yuuri’s spine at that tone of voice. If they didn’t have company, Yuuri would’ve grabbed his husband and kissed him senseless. As it is, Chris is here, and Yuuri knows for a fact the man will ask to join, or be perfectly content being a voyeur. Yuuri has never quite been into the idea of sharing Viktor. After all, he is the only one that can please Viktor, that knows his love. 

Possessiveness rears its ugly head inside of Yuuri, and he pushes Viktor behind him, now standing in front of his husband and blocking him from view. He’s a head smaller than his love, but Viktor fixes that by wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri grins, his hands coming to rest on Viktor’s forearms. 

“Mon Cher,” Chris laughs, “I’m not that early.”

Viktor rolls his eyes and pulls Yuuri into him, “What time is it?”

“Twenty till,” Chris answers, raising an eyebrow at Yuuri, “I knew you two had a media thing, but I didn’t think it was real. What happened with Danny or Jessica anyways?”

Yuuri’s grin turns into a smirk as he leans into Viktor’s embrace. His eyes move to the side, outlining the curve of his beloved’s nose while he listens to his reply, “Didn’t you ask me about Danny at the GPF? I still don’t remember who he was. And I forgot about Jessica. I haven’t seen her in years. I’ve got no clue what happened to her, nor do I care, I’m married now.” Viktor turns his head to look directly at Yuuri. 

Yuuri’s knees wobble from the sheer intensity of love shining in his husband’s gaze. His lips soften into a gentle smile, and he reaches a hand up to touch Viktor’s cheek. He almost misses Chris’s reply. 

“Ohhh so you’re the mystery husband! No wonder you didn’t want to go to any clubs.” Chris laughs. 

“Well,” Yuuri starts, finally speaking up, “it’s not a mystery now, don’t know why people still say we’re not together.”

“Probably because no one knew you guys met before the GPF.” Chris supplies.

“I mean _technically_ we didn’t.” Yuuri rubs his thumb along Viktor’s cheek. 

“What?” Chris frowns. 

“We kinda may have travelled in time?” Viktor informs. 

“You’re not drunk are you? Last time you said that you were drunk and complaining that my call interrupted you calling Yuuri.”

“I’ve told you that before?” 

“Do you not remember going off on a tirade about how shitty it is to be back in 2015? And then crying to me because I turned out not to be Yuuri?”

“Nope.”

“Oh is that when you FaceTimed me crying because Makkachin was snuggling with your body pillow of me and wouldn’t let you have it?” Yuuri interjects. 

“Maybe? I have very, extremely vague recollections of that.”

“I’ll show you the video later. I screen recorded it.”

“Oh dear,” Viktor groans, thunking his forehead on Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri’s hand slides off his face, falling to the side, “but yeah, the time travel thing is real. Yuuri and I have known each other for ten years.”

“I don’t know if I should be relieved or concerned.” Chris admits. 

“Maybe a little bit of both?” Yuuri offers, shrugging the shoulder Viktor isn’t currently discretely placing kisses on. 

“What happened?”

“We might have died. Not too sure about it yet though.” Yuuri answers, trying to seem nonchalant about it but his voice wavers at the end. Viktor tightens his arms around Yuuri, sucking in a deep breath. Yuuri places a kiss on his temple. 

“Oh shit. Then how-“ Chris gets interrupted by the locker room door opening. Otabek strides in, barely sparing them a glance. 

Yuuri breathes a sigh of relief, grateful for the interruption. This isn’t really a conversation he wants to have right now. He hasn’t come to terms with the possibility of actually dying yet, and facing reality right here and now is a very bad idea. 

“Since other skaters are arriving, I’m going to take this as my sign to get ready. Good luck out there you two,” Chris turns and walks away, leaving them to the privacy of their corner. 

Yuuri turns in Viktor’s arms, hugging him. He breathes in deeply, smiling when he feels Viktor’s fingers run through his hair. “I suppose we should get changed,” Yuuri mumbles into Viktor’s chest, squeezing his arms around him tighter.

“We should,” Viktor agrees, kissing the top of Yuuri’s head. 

Yuuri sighs, slowly pulling out of his husband’s arms. They change into their costumes silently, not-so-subtly checking each other out and showing off. Yuuri puts particular emphasis on his ass and thighs, knowing Viktor has an obsession with those parts of his body. Similarly, Viktor flexes his back and arms, causing Yuuri to have to bite his lower lip to keep from making any kind of noise.

They don their team jackets and grab their skates, walking hand in hand as they walk out of the locker room. Yuuri nods to Emil as they leave and he enters. He and Viktor didn’t bet anything on this competition, although they unofficially declared that whoever wins gets to decide the next position they make love in. 

“Remember to watch your entry in your quads,” Viktor says, rubbing his thumb along Yuuri’s hand, “You’ve been wobbly lately.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Yuuri nods, squeezing Viktor’s hand three times. Viktor repeats the action, a small smile gracing his features.

Stepping into the waiting room feels a little surreal because there’s so many cameras and people watching their every move. This is the first time they’re publicly appearing together in this world, and Yuuri can’t lie and say it doesn’t affect him. Viktor presses a kiss to his cheek before turning his attention on his approaching coach. Yuuri tunes out Yakov’s traditional preskate lectures, choosing to stretch on the floor instead. 

In the corner of his eye, he can see Celestino talking to a reporter. Briefly, he wonders what they’re talking about. If Celestino is telling the lady that he’s a bad student, that he might get silver again if he’s lucky, that he and Viktor are not dating and that definitely was not a kiss on the cheek nor did they walk in holding hands. 

“Hey,” Viktor’s soft voice interrupts his thoughts. Yuuri relaxes his legs and looks up at his husband’s face. Viktor sits next to him, leaving enough space so they can properly stretch, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Yuuri’s sure his husband knows what’s on his mind, but honestly, he doesn’t feel like talking right now, “Nothing.” He lies.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, stern and unimpressed, “talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

“You know what’s bothering me,” Yuuri snaps, unfounded annoyance bubbling inside him, “I don’t feel like talking.”

“Okay,” Viktor replies softly, concentrating on touching his toes more than he usually does.

Yuuri instantly regrets lashing out at his husband, but he can’t bring himself to speak an apology. The words die in his throat as his chest constricts, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes. He swallows hard, blinking back the tears and hanging his head in an attempt to hide his face. _I’m sorry, Vitya,_ he thinks, leaning forward with his hand on his calf. He was just trying to help, and Yuuri pushed him away in a moment of weakness. Why won’t the words come out?

He stands abruptly, guilt growing as he ignores Viktor’s questioning look to briskly walk out and away from everyone. He walks into the first quiet space he can find, a janitor’s closet by the looks of it, and does his stretching there. He wipes at the stupid tears that have spilled over, cursing them for existing. It’s stupid. He shouldn’t be feeling so anxious. He’s done this a thousand times before, and he has no qualms with showing off his relationship with Viktor. So then why does he feel this way?

He doesn’t notice the door opening and closing, or the brief flood of light at the action. He doesn’t register the body sitting next to him, too caught up in his head and wondering why it’s suddenly so hard to go out and present himself for the world to see.

He flinches as a hesitant hand reaches out to touch his back. He whips his head too see a brief expression of surprise on Viktor's face before morphing into something more sad and hurt. He slowly lowers his hand, and it breaks Yuuri’s heart to know he’s caused this. “I’m sorry,” Viktor whispers, the words splintering on his tongue, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I know it’s selfish that I came here but...should I leave?”

Yuuri stares at Viktor and completely shatters. He puts his head in his hands, tears burning behind his eyes and his throat tightening. He can barely breathe, but he shakes his head anyways. He wants to make this right, to fix this, but he can’t look at Viktor, not yet. 

“Can I touch you?” Viktor’s voice sounds off, like his own throat is closing up on him.

Yuuri doesn’t answer. He’d love a hug or a hand on his shoulder or anything really, but he doesn’t think he deserves it right now. He shouldn’t be comforted, no matter how much he craves the closeness. 

An uncertain hand touches his shoulder, light and barely there. Yuuri hates that Viktor feels he has to tread so carefully. He hates that he’s made his husband feel doubtful he’s allowed to touch. They’re _married_. The only touch Yuuri will ever full-heartedly accept in times like this is his husband’s, and he’s even gone and ruined that.

When he gives no reaction, the hand on his back presses more firmly, more sure in the action. Viktor scoots closer, keeping their only point of contact at Yuuri’s back. A sob tears its way up Yuuri’s throat, unbidden and abrupt. Why is he like this?

“Oh Yuuri,” Viktor breathes, immediately wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into his lap. He curls his body around Yuuri, shielding him from invisible and nonexistent dangers.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri cracks, trying so hard to stop the tears, “Vitya.”

Viktor kisses the top of his head then rests his cheek where he kissed, rocking Yuuri. “It’s okay,” he promises, “I know you didn’t mean it.”

* * *

Standing in the middle of the ice, Yuuri can see Viktor by the boards. Celestino and Yakov stand a few feet away from him, talking about something Yuuri would rather not guess. The audience roars, and Yuuri closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before the music starts and he’s off.

He’s never had an attachment to this program. The entire time he’s been skating it, he’s had to come up with a thousand different scenarios to portray any kind of emotion remotely close to what the program is supposed to show. He doesn’t even know what it is that he should act while on the ice. He catches a glimpse of Viktor as he goes into the first jump and suddenly he knows what this skate means.

This skate is different from all those before. This is a skate with a missing partner, a skate meant for two. This is about meeting Viktor all those years ago, when Yuuri was alone and hurting. This is about two people coming together as one. Yuuri can practically feel Viktor’s hands in his, the slight dryness of his hands because he missed a day of moisturizing them, the slender fingers fitting perfectly into his. 

This is a skate about getting drunk at your lowest moment and wooing your idol.

This is a skate about waking up to finding said idol naked in your family’s onsen. 

This is a skate about meeting Viktor.

This is a skate for Viktor.

Yuuri strikes his ending pose, bending to one knee and reaching out to his husband, holding his heart in his hands. He breathes heavily, trying to catch his breath. Slowly, the crowd’s hollars fill his ears, flowers and plushies flooding his vision as they rain around him. He stands on his feet, wobbling slightly as he dashes to his husband’s waiting arms. 

He jumps and Viktor catches him, twirling him around in his arms. “That was beautiful, Solnyshko,” he whispers in Yuuri’s ear as he sets him down. He doesn’t give Yuuri time to reply before he bends and puts on Yuuri’s skate guards. Celestino hands him his jacket, and he puts it on as Viktor stands. 

“Let’s go get your scores, Yuuri,” Celestino beckons him to follow.

Yuuri looks at his husband, and in a split second decision, pulls him down by his collar and kisses him. Hard. Viktor can barely get his arms around Yuuri before he breaks the kiss, smiling. “Just because I love you,” Yuuri tells him.

Yuuri walks away, because he has to let Viktor get on the ice and he has to get his scores. He sits by Celestino, his leg bouncing up and down as he squints at the screen. He’s anxious to see his husband’s skate. As soon as the score appears, apparently 100.17 from what the announcers say, he’s off the bench and pushing through a rush of reporters to stand where Viktor stood.

Yuuri leans against the boards, watching Viktor spin low on the ice, answering Yuuri’s skate. Viktor’s short program has, like Yuuri’s, been transformed into something meant for a pair. This is him skating his version of their meeting, of falling in love and taking risks. He’s pleading to find love, to be cherished and seen.

Though Yuuri can’t actually read Viktor’s mind, he can see the prayers Viktor silently says. Yuuri covers his mouth with his hand, blinking tears away. He lets them fall freely, crying from overwhelming love and devotion. He grips onto the boards with his freehand, because he’d surely crumple to his knees without support.

Viktor ends his skate on both knees, his head hanging low and hands cupped together, offering his heart to Yuuri in return. Yuuri meets him much in the same way Viktor met him, though Yuuri doesn’t spin his husband around. That’s because Viktor dips Yuuri below the boards and kisses him. Their lips crash desperately, trying to convey everything their skates did and more.

Viktor pulls Yuuri back up, breaking the kiss. “I love you,” he whispers, resting his forehead against Yuuri’s.

Yuuri nods, clutching at his husband and barely able to do anything but hand Viktor his skate guards. Viktor laughs, bright and happy and _oh_ , it’s doing so many things to Yuuri’s heart. Viktor slips the guards onto his skates and follows Yakov to the kiss and cry, his arm wrapped around Yuuri’s shoulders while Yuuri’s arm is wrapped around his waist. 

They sit on the bench, crowding each other as they wait for Viktor’s scores. It comes out to be 101.09, barely putting him in the lead. The reporters leap to the opportunity to interview, especially since their relationship is such a hot topic in the skating community.

“Mr. Nikiforov! Is it true you and Katsuki are having an affair?”

“Mr. Katsuki! Is Nikiforov your mystery husband?”

“Mr. Nikiforov! You’ve been very open about your affections with fellow skater Yuuri Katsuki today, why?”

“Mr. Katsuki! What do you have to say to all of Nikiforov’s fans telling you you aren’t allowed to date?”

“Mr. Katsuki! When did you and Nikiforov meet and find time to continue meeting?”

“Mr. Nikiforov! How does it feel to date a dime-a-dozen skater?”

Reporters force their microphones and cameras into the married couple’s faces, each expecting an answer to their question. Panic bubbles inside of Yuuri’s chest, but then he feels Viktor’s hold tighten and he remembers their earlier conversation in the janitor's closet. He can do this. They can do this.

Yuuri turns to the reporters first, “No, we are not having an affair,” Yuuri addresses, “Viktor is my husband, and we have been married for a while now.”

“Am I not allowed to be open with my husband?” Viktor asks in answer to that one reporter. 

“Mr. Katsuki! What do you have to say to all of Nikiforov’s fans telling you you aren’t allowed to date?” A reporter asks again, and Yuuri has trouble determining who. 

He smirks at the thought of people getting angry at him for taking Viktor away from the world, “I’m the only one who can satisfy Viktor. I’m the only one in the world who knows his love.” The reporters all seem taken aback by his declaration, but Yuuri can only feel pride in his chest. This is good. He wants to be hated for stealing Viktor away from the world, wants to be known as the man that Russia’s Living Legend loves.

Viktor doesn’t bother answering the rude reporter calling Yuuri a dime-a-dozen skater. Yuuri’s proud of how far he’s come, because the comment no longer hurts, and he no longer views himself that way. He is Japan’s top figure skater, nearly equal to his husband, the best figure skater in history. 

He and Viktor push their way through the reporters, ready to get back to the hotel room and Makka since it’s clear the reporters are not going to ask about the competition.

* * *

Viktor skates first for the free skates. Yuuri watches with baited breath as the first notes of Stammi Vicino play and Viktor starts. Whereas his short program was about finding love, praying for it to appear and accept him, this skate is a continuation of that story. Now he has found love and he pleads to keep it, for his husband to stay close to him.

Yuuri watches rapturously as Viktor skates, showing the world their love through his movements. His heart pounds in his chest from the overflowing love he feels for his husband. He can see Viktor’s desperation, can feel his prayers to keep them together. Viktor ends his program facing Yuuri, and even though Yuuri has taken off his glasses in preparation of his own performance, he can see the love radiating from the love of his life. 

As Viktor steps off the ice, Yuuri runs to him and crashes into his chest, nearly toppling them over. A soft ‘oof’ escapes Viktor as Yuuri wraps his arms around him in a bone crushing hug. Yuuri can vaguely hear the spectators talking about their hug and the way Viktor kisses the top of his head, though he doesn’t care to listen to how it’s such an unusual display of affection. It’s not. The public is just ignorant to their relationship. 

All too soon, Yakov starts dragging Viktor away by the back of his costume, and despite Yuuri’s best efforts to hold on a little longer, Celestino steps in to help Yakov break them apart. Yuuri sighs, watching his husband retreat while Celestino gives him a pep talk. “You don’t have to land all your quads, just focus on your performance score and you’ll do good.” His coach says as he takes Yuuri’s team jacket and skate guards.

Yuuri takes one last glance at Viktor before stepping onto the ice, squaring his shoulders. He’s ready to give an answer to Viktor’s performance. He stops in the middle of the ice, and tilts his head down, waiting for the music to begin. When it does, Yuuri begins his skate. 

Much like his short program, when he had first skated this program and had it choreographed, he didn’t have a meaning he wanted to portray. No theme or specific feeling. It was just a program he used to get into the GPF and win. Now, he wants to show his husband that no matter the circumstances, he will never leave his side. 

He will stay close for as long as he is alive, in any world and in any time. They’re in this together forever and always. They’ve been through so much together, and Yuuri has full faith that they will continue to stay close to each other’s side regardless of what fate tells them. If they die here, in this world, in their world, in any world, Yuuri will find Viktor again, and they’ll live until fate decides to start them over. 

Their love was meant to be, Yuuri knows that now. Deep down, he’s always had an inclination that he and Viktor were meant to be forever, but this life they’re living now has taught him to never take that for granted. Nothing shines brighter than Viktor. When he smiles, Yuuri’s whole world lights up. He’s always been fascinated by the bright light of Viktor’s beauty, but being able to see it up close, being the one that makes his smile turn into a heart, cannot be compared to how he felt growing up idolizing his husband. 

He hopes that in their next life, they’ll be able to meet sooner, that circumstances will allow them to grow old together. Maybe they’ll remember this life, maybe they won’t, he doesn’t care so long as he stays by Viktor’s side. That’s what he’s really concerned about. Life without Viktor...it’s impossible to think about. He prays he can do their love proper justice through this skate. 

He skates to show the world that he is worthy of Viktor’s love, that he will be by his side regardless of the objections people make. 

He skates to tell fate to fuck off, that regardless of it’s decisions, he will never leave Viktor.

He skates to Viktor, to reassure him that even if they die, it will not part them.

This is Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, laying his heart and soul out for all to see, knowing his husband will keep it safe from all those who try to damage it.

This is Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov holding Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov’s heart and soul in his hands, protecting it from all those who will try to steal it all away.

This is Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov skating for his husband.

He ends his skate in the same way their Stammi pair skate ends while facing Viktor, who’s using the boards to keep himself upright. 

Yuuri doesn’t stay on the ice for long, speedily skating off the ice and into his husband’s arms. Despite the crowd’s cheers, all Yuuri hears is Viktor’s heart beating, loud and so very alive. He laughs, pulling away from the hug to take his husband’s face in his hands and kiss him. Viktor grins against his mouth, unable to kiss Yuuri properly because he’s smiling so much. 

They walk together to get Yuuri’s score, crowding the bench with Celestino there too. Yuuri’s score comes out to be 213.76, beating Viktor’s 210.87. Viktor tackles Yuuri, causing them to fall off the bench as he pepper’s Yuuri in kisses for winning the gold. Everyone else seems utterly confused by Russia’s top skater’s reaction, having expected him to be upset, not happier that Japan’s top skater won than he would have been if he did. 

The reporters all ask rather rude questions, wondering if Yuuri cheated his way to the top or if Viktor is faking his happiness and many other intrusive things, so they not-so-politely ignore them all. They push their way into the skaters only area, where Viktor loses all control and kisses Yuuri, mumbling _I love you_ over and over again even as Chris whistles and the other skaters wandering through the room grumble. 

“ _I love you too, My Vitya_.” Yuuri whispers, throwing his arms around his husband’s neck as he kisses him back fervently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time, the spicy scene at the beginning was my dabble in all things steamy lol. Maybe one day I'll be able to write my own smut. Speaking of, I have an installment to my Murder Husbands™️ series that my friend wrote an explicit scene for, and I cannot wait to finish it and share it with you all! Also, I mentioned in the last chapter but in case you missed it, I have a discord server to talk abt all things of any fandom, and where I also spoil many things about my writing. You can join it [ here](https://discord.gg/u4s8c5Qe3g) and the link doesn't expire, so no matter when you see this you can join!! I have also _finally_ started a YouTube playlist for this fic and you can find it [ here](https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLBSoWx0Zk-yG0XIcNtgY4lKUxvvZ7rCQh) it's kinda a combo of songs for the fic and songs I listened to while writing and I will be updating it continuously because I know I've missed some songs lol. Thank you guys so much for your never ending support! You guys are such a treasure and I wouldn't be writing this fic without you 🥰

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely love this au and I just had to write my own fic for it lmao. A lot of the angst is inspired from the canon fact that Viktor and Yuuri can’t live without each other. I felt like incorporating that would work well for the story.  
> You can find me on tumblr [ here](https://howls-moving-ice-skates.com). I hope you all enjoy!


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